Unintended Consequences
by Vampire-Badger
Summary: Altair feels someone is watching him. Desmond feels his life falling apart. A thousand years isn't any distance at all, really.
1. Chapter 1

He knows there's someone else there. Behind him, just where he can't see.

It's a feeling that's been following Altair for months now, an itching on the back of his neck, the pressure of someone watching his kills when he knows there's no one there. It irks him. He is an assassin- _we work in the dark to serve the light_- and there should be no one hiding in the dark to watch him.

But there is.

A kill is a private moment. The knowledge of what must happen fighting with the feeling (it never really goes away) that this is a man who woke up this morning and didn't know he had to die. No matter the man. No matter what circumstances conspire to bring Altair's blade to his throat. It never feels quite right, and Altair prefers to do it alone. Just him and the dead man.

The watcher isn't there all the time, which should be a relief. But it's not, because whenever he's not being watched from the outside, he can feel someone else looking out through his eyes, filling every space in his body, sharing his thoughts and his feelings, and this is an enemy Altair knows he can never fight, because he's starting to believe that the enemy is himself. His mind has betrayed him, and this is the beginning of the end. He has seen assassins go insane before. He always thought them weak.

For a long time, he waits. For his mind to snap, for the end to come. But when nothing does, he relaxes a little. There's someone watching him, from just behind him, where he can't see. From inside his head. And he finds that he doesn't much mind. Sometimes, when his mind is his own and the watcher is outside, he catches himself feeling lonely. He grows to know the mind that sometimes shares his body. He knows when the other is excited, or afraid, or annoyed. He knows these feelings as well as he knows his own.

When he races over the rooftops of Jerusalem, running from guards or searching for a target, he feels the watcher's joy, the same pleasure Altair once felt for the same exact reason- the freedom of the chase, of knowing he's too fast for the guards to catch, too clever, too skilled. And after that, he spends a little more time than he needs to on the roofs, climbs a little higher than he used to. And he knows the other can feel him as well. He used to feel horror from the other when he watched Altair kill. But he has to do it, even if he does regret it a little, and he tries to share that with the other. This he does for duty, not for pleasure. And after that he feels hesitation from the other, but never again shock or horror.

All these thoughts flash through his mind on the day he kills Al Mualim, and sees the golden globe shining in the air above him. The watcher is there again, and for just a moment Altair thinks of ignoring him. He has other problems now, other sorrows. But something makes him turn, and in that moment, in the golden glow from above, he sees the other for the first time.

His first thought is that he is looking at himself. The features are nearly the same, down to the scar just under his mouth. But the other's skin is paler, his clothes strange, his posture tense. He's staring up at the globe, confusion and defeat mixed on his face- and Altair stares at him in turn, trying to wrap his mind around the similarities, about the other's presence here at all.

He takes a step forward- the other's eyes snap down to Altair, his eyes widening, and Altair feels the other's surprise clear in his own mind- and then he vanishes.

**Well this is embarrassingly short, but I'm in the mood for short. So sue me.**


	2. Chapter 2

Desmond wakes abruptly to the real world, and manages to sit up just in time to empty the contents of his stomach all over his shoes.

"Lovely," Vidic drawls. Desmond doesn't apologize. He doesn't care what Vidic thinks, and anyway, the mess on his shoes is the bigger concern at the moment. He hops off the animus and leaves Vidic and Lucy to their talk. It's not like they ever tell him what's going on, anyway.

He doesn't want to think about the way his shoes squish against the floor with every step he takes, but there's already that huge, horrible, impossible thing he's trying to block out, and even shoes covered in sick are better than that. _Squish squish squish_. The sound alone is enough to make him want to throw up again. Instead, he takes a few deep breaths to calm his stomach, strips off his clothes, and steps into the shower.

For a few minutes, he's able to concentrate on just getting clean, but slowly that same feeling of emptiness steals over him. As much as he hates the animus, there's something about sharing a mind with his ancestor, or even watching from the outside, that feels comforting, somehow. He's always felt alone, before. He laughs, because he's still alone. Altair's been dead a thousand years, and besides, the construct in the animus isn't really his ancestor. He doesn't know or care that Desmond's in his mind, pawing through his memories, screwing them up more often than not-

So why does it sometimes feel like Altair is trying to teach him?

Desmond pushes the thoughts away and tries to focus on the shower again. He hasn't mentioned any of this. He can only imagine what Vidic would say, and Lucy would probably just be concerned. She would pity him, and he doesn't want to be pitied.

He turns off the shower, suddenly exhausted, and dresses again for bed. He has clean clothes- courtesy of Abstergo- that smell too clean and feel too stiff. He puts them on anyway. They're better than nothing. And much better than his old clothes, that- courtesy of his stomach- smell like a back alley dumpster. He kicks them into a corner and falls into bed.

He closes his eyes and sees Altair again, staring straight at him, guarded confusion on that all too familiar face. It could be his face, if it were a little less dark, but it's still strange to see it on someone else like this, especially looking right at him. Altair's never done that before, not in all the time Desmond's spent in the animus, not even by accident. And the surprise he could feel, coming off in waves from his ancestor, had been enough to throw him out of the animus, and his lunch straight onto the floor. But it wasn't just the surprise, it was the recognition-

Desmond forces the thoughts away and tried to sleep. He doesn't know what time of day it was, if it's even night, but he feels exhausted, more than ready for sleep. His time in the animus is as exhausting for him as it must have been for Altair. More, probably. At least his ancestor was used to it. Desmond... isn't.

Even with his mind running a thousand miles an hour, he drops off quickly.

**And I'm sticking to short chapters, apparently. What can I say, I have a fifty page AC4 fic sitting half finished in my school binder. I guess I'm not in the mood for complexities.**


	3. Chapter 3

It is a day Altair knows he will never forget- the death of his mentor, the strange golden ball, laying eyes on the other for the first time- but it is a day he wants, more than anything, to just end. In the morning, there will be decisions to make, the fate of the entire order to decide. But for now, he will be happy if he can only sleep.

He keeps the apple with him. He doesn't want anything to do with it, but he wants even less to wake up and find it gone. So when he lies down to sleep, he does so with the apple only an arm's reach away. Just in case.

But he doesn't sleep. Instead, he wakes up. One moment he's in his own room in Masyaf, preparing for sleep, and the next he's dragging his mind out of what feels like a midnight sleep- the kind of sleep that comes in the middle of the night, when the mind is buried most deeply in dreams. He feels sluggish, like he's actually had the sleep he doesn't remember having, and awareness comes slowly as he lies there in bed, wondering what's going on and- again- if he's going crazy.

Awareness comes more slowly than it usually does in the morning. The first thing he notices is- the other is back. And the second thing he notices is- no, he isn't. He can feel the familiar presence, as comforting now as it was alarming at first. But something is different. Before, he always felt the other in his mind, watching but doing no more. Now he feels the other all around him, and he knows suddenly that somehow _he _is the one in the other's mind, and not the other way around. That when his eyes open, they won't be his eyes.

The other doesn't seem to want to be awake. Altair can feel him drifting back to sleep, and he panics, the first time in decades. He doesn't know what will happen to him if the other falls asleep while he's inside his mind, and he doesn't want to find out. He lashes out with that panic, trying to make himself felt, and is rewarded as the other suddenly jerks awake, eyes snapping open, breathing hard. Altair can feel his chest heaving with the echo of his own fear, and makes an effort to calm himself.

_"Shit. Can't even sleep now," _the other says in a language Altair doesn't know. He sits up in bed and puts his head in his hands, collecting himself. Altair tries to do the same- it's different being on this side. He feels powerless. He has no control over the body, no choice but to go along with whatever the other decides to do. But his mind feels more open- he can feel the others emotions swirling around, stronger and more complex than they've ever been before. And more than that- now that he's on the inside, he can hear the other's thoughts as well, mostly annoyance at being woken up. Altair doesn't understand exactly what the other is thinking. Like most people, the other thinks in the same language he speaks in, and Altair can pick up no more than the most basic ideas, and the odd bit of Arabic floating past.

He wonders how many of his own thoughts the other has heard.

The other stands, and Altair feels a wave of sudden dizziness. He's not the one standing up, he knows he's not. But he feels the muscles working, legs moving, balance shifting. He knows he's not the one moving, he's just going along for the ride, but it would be so easy to lose track.

The room is dark, and without thinking Altair tries to sharpen his vision, reaching for the sense he's relied on his whole life, to see the truth where others see nothing. The sixth sense is second nature to him, as easy as breathing, but when he reaches for it in the other's mind, he finds it unused and unacknowledged.

Still there, though, and a moment later the other stops dead in his tracks as the room is bathed in the surreal vision. Altair flinches away- he hadn't meant to go poking around through the other's mind, it was just habit. And why had it worked, anyway, when he clearly has no control over anything else the other did?

_"What is..?"_ Altair feels the other swallow down a wave of revulsion as he cautiously approached the closest wall. Altair was still looking around the room- _nothing _there looks at all familiar- when the other reaches out a hand to touch something. By the confusion he can still feel from the other, Altair realizes the writings on the wall aren't supposed to be there at all. In a world full of strangeness, this is the strangest of all. And, now that he- or rather, the other- is looking at them more closely, he can see them for what they are.

Blood.


	4. Chapter 4

Somehow, Desmond knows it's blood on the walls. Maybe he's just seen enough of it in the animus by now, but it's like he can hear a voice in the back of his head telling him. It's blood, and he doesn't know whose it is or where it's come from. He feels like throwing up again, and he's glad he hasn't eaten anything since coming out of the animus yesterday. Or is it still today? It doesn't matter, he decides. The blood on the walls is starting to freak him out, not to mention the eagle vision...

He shakes his head sharply, and both the blood and the strange vision fade. Desmond breathes a sigh of relief, glad to be back to normal. He's heard of the Bleeding Effect from Lucy. He doesn't want to start seeing that strange way Altair does. He doesn't want to lose his mind.

Although he doesn't feel like he's losing his mind. Actually, he feels better than he has in a long time. Definitely better than when he went to sleep last night. He's still stuck in Abstergo with no way out. Vidic's probably still going to kill him as soon as he gets the chance. But for some reason, he doesn't feel as alone anymore.

He frowns. It's the same feeling he gets in the animus when he syncs with Altair. Maybe he is bleeding, after all. He paces the room for a few minutes, trying not to look at the walls. He can't see anything there anymore, but the memory is fresh enough to keep his eyes on the floor. He feels restless, and he's just starting to think about going into the main room, the one one with the animus, when he hears something through the door.

He hesitates. It sounded like a thump, like someone tripping or sitting down on the floor. But when he doesn't hear anything else, he decides he must have imagined it, and steps through the unlocked door.

He hadn't imagined anything. He's scarcely taken two steps when he freezes, eyes fixed on the other three people in the room with him. One looks like a cleaning lady, bent over the puddle of sick he left next to the animus earlier, a rag in her hands and a bucket of soapy water next to her on the floor. The other two are men, large and muscled, both carrying guns. They look like security, there to make sure the cleaning lady isn't an assassin spy maybe, and Desmond has half a second to wonder if he can get back into his room before anyone notices. And then it's too late.

One of the guards looks up, and yells, "he's escaping!" Desmond thinks about bolting but there's nowhere to run, and the guard are on him before he knows it. He can't fight back. He's spent days in the animus, inside Altair's body, fighting with him, but he can't do it on his own, and it only takes seconds for his world to fall into pieces, shattering into a million shards of pain and fear. Something breaks and he whimpers, and the guards are laughing now. They don't care if they kill him, he realizes, and he wonders if they'll be in trouble from Vidic or if the old man's just decided that Desmond isn't needed anymore.

He curls up as best he can, but it's not enough. It hurts. He hears screaming but it's not his. Maybe the cleaning woman. Then another voice yells "No!" It sounds like Lucy, but he can't make himself care right now. Everything hurts, and there's nowhere to run except deeper into his mind. He gives up control, and lets his mind fall into blackness.


	5. Chapter 5

For a second, Altair is afraid the other is dying. He feels his consciousness fading, feel him letting go of the mind they share, and for a second the edges of their vision starts to go black. He doesn't know what's going on, exactly, but he can guess that the other is a prisoner, and that these guards won't stop short of killing him.

He can't let that happen. Not just because he doesn't want to find out what happens to him if the other dies, but because he doesn't _want _the other to die. Maybe at first, yes, but now... it would be like losing part of himself.

He feels a sudden rush of anger, and suddenly his vision clears again. The pain rushes over in a fresh wave of agony, and Altair almost cries out in shock. He thought it had hurt before, but now- he winces away from yet another blow, and-

He winces.

He's the one in control.

No sooner has he realized this then he's on his feet, fresh bursts of agony breaking out. It hurts, but he's been hurt before, and he knows how to fight through it. One of his legs feels not quite right, and he keeps as much of his weight off it as he can. He's bleeding from a dozen cuts, and he can feel bruises forming that he know he won't see until morning. If he makes it until morning.

He will. He always does. He takes down the first guard while they're both reeling from the sight of their victim going from almost blacked out to suddenly on his feet. The second one manages to gather what whits he has, and reaches for something- _a gun, it's called a gun- _at his hip. Altair doesn't know what it does, but the other's mind is screaming at him that it means bad news, so he knocks it out of the man's hand before he can get a firm grip on it. The guard swears, and Altair slams his hidden blade into-

Only he doesn't, because the other doesn't wear a hidden blade. Altair growls a curse and breaks the man's neck instead. He falls to the floor and Altair reacts to a flash of movement in the corner of his eye- someone's there, and in an instant he's got them pressed against the nearest wall, pinned beneath his weight.

She's a woman. Not the one that had come in with the guards (that woman is in a corner, crying softly). This one is blond, in a white shirt now flecked with blood, and she's yelling something. He stops himself abruptly. She hasn't hurt him _-Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent-_ and when he checks his other vision she shows up blue. He tries to listen. To his own surprise, he understands her. Somehow. The words are strange, but the other knows them, and the meaning comes through to Altair.

"Desmond!" there's panic in her voice. "Please, what are you doing?"

Desmond. The name feels right in his mind, but he knows it isn't his. It's the other's. For some reason, it's never even occurred to him that the other has a name. Altair steps back, letting her go. She's looking at him, a little wary. She's expecting something from him, but all he can say is, "What's going on?"

The question is his, but the words aren't. They come out in the same strange language the woman's been speaking. And the voice isn't, either. It's Desmond's, and Altair can't wrap his mind around hearing it come out of his mouth.

It seems to relax the woman- _Lucy_- though. "Thank God," she says. "I thought- but never mind. We need to get out of here." She grins feebly. "Some rescue, attempt, huh?"

Altair doesn't say anything. He's starting to feel like he might have to follow Desmond into unconsciousness, but forces himself to stay awake for now. If more guards come-

"Can you walk?" Lucy asks.

"Not far," Altair says, in that same voice that isn't his.

"Good enough," says Lucy, and slowly, painfully, they make their escape. Altair manages to stay awake until they're out of the building and Lucy practically forces him into the trunk of her car. He's too bleary, in too much pain, to wonder what's going anymore. He doesn't even stop to marvel at the car- another word stolen from Desmond's mind. He just curls into a ball inside the trunk and decides this is probably as close to safe as he can expect to get anytime soon. Pain reaches up and carries him away. The last thing he knows is darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

Something hits him square in the stomach, and Desmond comes awake. He crosses from blackness and back to consciousness instantly, and for a second he's confused. Wherever he is, it's still dark. Then something hits him again and Desmond hears the thud of a wheel hitting a pothole and realizes he's in the trunk of a car. And not an empty trunk, either. He can feel bits of junk rolling around him with every movement of the car- a half gallon of soda next to his foot, an flattened tissue box under his shoulder, something sticky that smells behind his head.

He reaches forward and his fingers close around what feels like a hammer. If he lets go it'll just hit him again, and besides, he doesn't know where he is or who the car belongs to. It's sort of possible he might need a weapon.

He's not in much position to fight, though. There's barely a square inch of his body that doesn't feel bruised. His left leg is probably broken, and the fingers on his right hand- the one not holding the hammer- sends waves of pain up his arm every time he tries to move them. One eye is swollen shut, and Desmond can taste blood in his mouth. He can smell blood too, and when he tries to shift himself away from the smelly thing just behind his head, he can feel that his shirt is stuck to his back thanks to the dried blood from a dozen cuts.

The car stops suddenly and Desmond tenses, ready for the trunk to open, for something to happen, but after a few seconds the car moves forward again, and he relaxes. As much as he can. Probably just a stoplight.

He's afraid, more afraid even then he was when Abstergo kidnapped him the first time. This time he has a pretty good idea what's waiting for him on the other side of this car ride. He's served his purpose, and Vidic had never been shy with about making threats. Probably the only thing waiting for him outside this trunk was a bullet to the brain and a shallow grave.

The car stops again, and this time the engine turns off. Desmond lifts himself up on one elbow, so he'll be in a better position to swing the hammer when the trunk door opens. There are footsteps coming around the side of the car, and Desmond wastes a few seconds wishing he was anywhere other than here. That he'd never been kidnapped, and still thought the templars were nothing worse than a conspiracy made up by his paranoid parents.

That he had something better than a hammer in his hand.

The trunk finally opens, and at that exact moment, Desmond leans on his fingers wrong, and a fresh bolt of pain sends him crashing back down. He tries to struggle back up, but before he can there's a hand on his shoulder, gently holding him down. "Stay there," says a voice, and he knows that voice, it's Lucy's voice, but what is she doing here? "I'm going to get someone to help."

The only answer he can manage is a kind of mumbled agreement, but it's either enough or she's just not listening, because she hurries away. Desmond waits in the trunk, hating himself for his helplessness, and wishing she would hurry back. It smells like something's dying in the trunk, and he has a bad feeling that it might be him.

The whole time he's waiting, he can't quite shake the feeling that someone's watching him. There's someone watching him, from behind, just where he can't see.


	7. Chapter 7

Altair is back in his own body when he next wakes. It is not a pleasant awakening. His head throbs, and he feels light somehow, insubstantial and impermanent. When he looks down at himself, he can see the ground through his legs, and it sends a chill through him that he tries his best to ignore.

He watches in silence as three people- a man and two women- hurry to the car and help Desmond out. He looks unwell, and it takes all four of them together to get him moving. Even so, one of them should have noticed Altair. He stands feet away, unhidden, and not one of them sees. When they leave the car behind and make for the building nearby- old, falling apart, apparently abandoned- Altair follows, still unheeded. Whatever binds him to Desmond, it is the only connection he still has to home. It is a thin thread to base his hopes on, but it is all he has.

He wonders, as he follows the group through a large, open room filled with boxes and up a metal staircase (Desmond is hissing in pain by the time they reach the top), why he is no longer in Desmond's head, and then dismisses the question as foolish. He is in a place as unlike home as he can imagine, and he wonders why he _isn't _sharing a body with a near stranger.

Although, Desmond has been in Altair's mind for months. He decides stranger isn't an appropriate word anymore.

They come to a suite of rooms at the top of the stairs, and Altair is surprised by how different they look from what he has seen of the building so far. Most of the rooms' contents are strange to him, but it is clear that the area is still lived in and used. Desmond glances around as the first woman- Lucy- guides him into a chair. He seems to be looking for something, and his eyes sweep, unseeing, over Altair. It hits him, then- all the times he felt eyes on him, in Jerusalem, Damascus, Acre, Masyaf- that was Desmond, just as it was Desmond in his head at other times.

He wonders why Desmond seems confused. Altair still has no idea why all this is happening, or how, but if Desmond has been inside his mind, he should know all this already. But he seems to know as little about what's going on as Altair does. Which means he won't be getting any answers from Desmond's mind.

He watches in silence as Lucy and the two strangers look Desmond over. Altair can't understand what they're saying- he seems to have lost that ability when he left Desmond's mind- so he focuses on their tone of voice, the way they stand, the hundred little signs that show how a person is really feeling.

Lucy's voice is worried, and she stands a little way apart from Desmond when she can, not quite looking at him. Altair thinks it might be guilt- the careful way she helps with his injuries says she blames herself, somehow. But Altair remembers when he was in control of Desmond's body, and knows that Desmond couldn't have done what he did to the guards. And he thinks Lucy might be a little afraid.

The other woman's voice is upbeat- she isn't making light of Desmond's injuries, but she's seen worse. Every action she takes has a confidence behind it. But she watches Desmond, even as Altair watches her. She doesn't know him, and she hasn't quite decided if she can trust him yet.

The man retreats to the other side of the room until the woman calls him back. He says something- his voice alone is enough to tell Altair that the something is sarcastic- and after a brief but loud argument he crosses the room again. For the next several minutes he stands by the others, hands his companions supplies when they ask for them, and provides a near constant commentary. When he looks at Desmond, he keeps his eyes away from the injuries, away from the blood. And when they disband a few minutes later, he hurries into a nearby room. Altair thinks he is the only one that hears the sound of the man being sick for several minutes after.


	8. Chapter 8

"You're feeling better?"

Desmond looks up at Lucy, a little surprised to see her suddenly next to him. "Yea," he says. "A lot better, actually." And it's not just the pain medicine, or the splint on his leg, or his newly wrapped fingers, or- well, any of the other bandages crisscrossing his body. He's out of Abstergo's reach. And for now, that's enough.

"Good," Lucy says. "That's... good." She sounds distracted, and she's looking at Desmond in a way he doesn't quite like. He can feel eyes on the back of his neck again, and he twists around, half wondering if there's anyone else looking at him. But there's no one, of course. "What's the matter?" Lucy asks, and he snaps back around to look at her.

"Nothing."

"Oh." She hesitates, then says, "Back at Abstergo, when you killed those guards-"

"When I did what?" He can't hide the horror in his voice, because he's _never _killed anyone before. In the animus, yes, but that's- different. In the animus, he's only riding along with Altair, or watching from a distance. It can feel like he's the one doing the killings, but he knows it's not. It can't be. "That's not what happened," he tells Lucy. "They kicked the shit out of me for a while and then I woke up in your trunk."

"You don't remember anything that happened in between?" Lucy asks.

"Nothing happened in between," says Desmond.

"How did you think you got here?" Lucy asks, and now there's something in her face that Desmond _knows _he doesn't like. It's pity. "You're bigger than I am. I didn't carry you, and no one else was there."

He doesn't have an answer for that, and it terrifies him.

"You need to be careful," Lucy says. "Vidic kept you in the animus too long. It's not safe. Too much and you start having hallucinations, nightmares, losing track of the differences between you and your ancestor..."

"And killing people?" Desmond asks. He can't look at her.

"You've been reliving the memories of a master assassin eighteen hours a day," Lucy says. Her voice is gentle. "I was surprised it hadn't had any effect already."

"You expected me to go crazy, and you didn't say anything?" Desmond demands.

"I'm sorry," says Lucy. "I should have, but the last guy we put in the animus ended up..." she stops, but Desmond glares at her until she says- "He cut himself open and painted the walls in his own blood."

Desmond feels his stomach lurch. Those symbols... He changes the subject. "Where are we now?" he asks.

"Assassin hideout," says Lucy. He remembers her standing next to the animus, hand out, one finger bent in. "One of our last safe havens."

"Thanks," Desmond says. "For getting me out of there."

He glances over at the other two, who are arguing- again- in a far corner of the room. Lucy follows his look and explains, "Shaun and Rebecca. I'll introduce you when they're done flirting."

"Is that what they're doing?" Desmond asks.

"Hey, it works for them," Lucy says, and laughs a little. Desmond manages half a smile. The left side of his face is too bruised to finish it. "Rebecca's our computers expert, Shaun's a historian."

"What do you do?" Desmond asks.

"Mostly undercover work at Abstergo, lately," Lucy sighs. "But I don't think I'll be going back to that anytime soon."

"I don't think they'd want you back," Desmond agrees. "What do I do?" He can't leave. He knows that, because Abstergo will find him again. But he doesn't know what to think of the assassins. He still has too many memories of the farm. He remembers all too vividly why he ran away, and knowing his parents were right about the templars doesn't make it any better. He just doesn't think he has any choice right now.

Lucy fidgets a little, and says, "You're not going to like this." Her eyes dart toward a weird red chair near Rebecca's desk, and even though it looks different, Desmond knows it has to be an animus. He just knows.

"You want me to go back in?" he demands. "You just told me the last guy slashed himself open!"

"It won't be that bad this time," Lucy says. "I promise. Rebecca and I will be monitoring you the entire time. And- honestly, there are secrets in your genetic memory that we need the answers to. The assassins are losing this war, Desmond."

"I don't care," says Desmond. "Assassins, templars- you all want the same thing out of me, apparently." He's angry, and he wants to get up and storm away, only there's nowhere to go and his leg hurts too much anyway."

"That's not true," says Lucy. "I promise, I'm asking you to do this, not forcing you to. It's just... it's not coming out right. But the templars are after the apple, and you saw what it could do, in the animus. What Al Mualim did with it."

Desmond nods, reluctantly. He remembers the army of brainwashed assassins rushing at Altair, and the feel of his ancestor's rising horror as he realized the only way through was to cut down his brothers... his stomach twists. That kind of power was wrong. "Abstergo wants to do that again?" he asks.

"Yes," Lucy says. "But on a global scale. They're planning a satellite launch for December of this year. All they're missing is an apple to power it. That's why we need to find it first."

"And we need Altair's memories for that?" Desmond asks.

"No," says Lucy. "A different ancestor."

He has no choice. Desmond knows he's never been the most charitable of guys. He's spent too much time on his own, struggling to take care of himself, to worry about what the rest of the world is doing. But this is different. During all the time he spent in the animus, he can't remember Altair ever feeling afraid. Except for that day.

"Alright," Desmond says. He wonders if he's signing his own death warrant. "I'll do it."

**-/-**

**And the longest chapter yet is also the most boring. -_- Oh well. Conversation needed to happen.**


	9. Chapter 9

Something happens at the moment Altair sees Desmond and Lucy reach their agreement. One moment he's standing nearby, half leaning against a wall, taking in his new surroundings and trying to puzzle them out. And the next, with no transition, he's back inside Desmond's head, powerless again.

Desmond shakes his head, and Lucy asks, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Desmond says. "Sorry, just feeling a little beat up still."

"You should get some rest," Lucy says. "We can wait until tomorrow to start working with the animus."

"I'd rather just get it over with," says Desmond. "The sooner we get started the sooner it'll be over."

"I'm really sorry," Lucy says. "I am."

"Let's just do this," Desmond says, and stands. He refuses Lucy's help when she offers it, and crosses the room under his own power, completely ignoring that only one foot can actually hold his whole weight at the moment. Altair feels briefly annoyed- he's been injured enough times to know that staying off a bad limb until its healed is the best way to make sure it heals quickly. But the annoyance fades quickly. After all, he's never followed his own advice.

The two strangers- _Shaun, Rebecca_- look up as Lucy leads Desmond to a red chair. "Feeling better?" Rebecca asks.

"Yea," says Desmond, but Altair can feel the lie in his mind. And he's not talking about the beating. Altair can tell that much, but he doesn't know what he _is_ talking about. Only that there's a darkness hiding behind that word Lucy said earlier. Animus. He prods at the memory, but Desmond's mind shoves him back. This isn't a place Desmond wants to go in his own mind. It definitely isn't a place he's going to let anyone else into.

"This is it?" Desmond asks. "The same as at Abstergo?"

"More or less," says Rebecca, and launches into a cheerful burst of numbers and details that mean nothing to Altair, and little more to Desmond.

"Or we could save the technical details for later," Lucy interrupts, and Rebecca nods.

"Alright," she says. "Hey Shaun, give me a hand with the calibrations here."

"What do you need me for?" Shaun asks.

"Stop whining," Rebecca says. "I need you to help me ID the right genetic data." She turns to Desmond. "Lucy was going to do this before you left Abstergo- their animi aren't as good as baby here-" she nods at the red chair. "But they have more processing power. We can't just run through all of your DNA until we find the right ancestor. We're going to have to flip through memories until we find the right general era and go from there." She pokes Shaun teasingly in the arm. "That's why we need our historian."

"How many ancestors are you going to need to get through?" Desmond asks.

"Don't worry about it," says Rebecca. "They'll go past too quickly. You won't even have to sync with them."

"Good," says Desmond.

"Not until we find the right ancestor, anyway," says Shaun.

"Not helping," Lucy hisses.

"Let's just get started," says Desmond, and settles into the chair. He closes his eyes, and Altair wonders what's supposed to happen next."

"Alright," says Rebecca. Her voice sounds weirdly distant, and Desmond opens his eyes.

They're not in the same place. Alair can see scene after scene flicker past them- strange places he's never been. But at the same time, he can feel the chair under him, and somehow he knows they haven't actually left the room. Desmond watches in silence, but Altair can feel a rising panic. It's Desmond's fear, but Altair can feel it affecting him as well.

He forces his mind to slow down, focusing on observing so he doesn't give into the panic. At first, Desmond fights it, but Altair keeps at it. _I'm here_, he thinks. _Whatever's going to happen, you're not going to face it alone_.

He feels Desmond take a huge breath, and let it slowly back out. He isn't calm, but he doesn't seem like he's about to panic anymore. They stand together and wait for something to happen.

"There!" Shaun calls suddenly, and the shifting scenery freezes. "Italy, fifteenth century."

"Perfect," says Rebecca. "Alright Desmond, I'm just going to hook you into a memory so we'll be able to find this ancestor again."

"Sure," says Desmond, and there's a sudden flash of white, and something happens. He feels Desmond being ripped away, and it _hurts_. Worse than the beating from the escape. Worse than anything Altair ever felt in his own body. And they're both screaming inside their shared head...

And then everything goes black.


	10. Chapter 10

Desmond wakes to find Altair kneeling over him, their faces barely a foot apart. He jerks back, and Altair raises an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?" Desmond demands. Then he looks around. They're in a grassy field somewhere. He doesn't know the place, but they're alone. There's nothing in sight but the two of them.

And, on the ground between them, the apple of eden. Desmond stares at it, then at Altair. "What's going on?"

"You don't know?" Altair asks.

"Why would I?" Desmond asks. "Hallucination, maybe?" He stands up, and there's no pain. "This has to be inside my head. I should have the tar beat out of me."

"I know," says Altair. "I was there."

"You were there," Desmond repeats. "How-" then something clicks. "You killed those guards."

Altair half leans away from him, and Desmond recognizes the gesture. He's spent enough time in his ancestor's head to recognize that Altair doesn't want him to see his expression. "It seemed better than dying."

"Maybe," says Desmond. "Instead I'm stuck inside my own head talking to-" what? A hallucination? That's what this has to be, but it doesn't _feel_ like one. It feels real.

"How did this happen?" Altair asks. "I felt you in my mind for weeks, and then I woke to find myself in yours."

"You felt me in your head?" Desmond asks. "But you-" He turns away. "You're not real." The other way of thinking about it, that somehow his time in the animus could affect Altair, a thousand years in the past, was not a good one. It was bad enough without dragging anyone else into it

"I'm as real as you are."

And Desmond looks at him, hard. And somehow, he knows it's true. "Shit," he says. "You are. You're real, and you're inside my head-"

"You were in mine first," says Altair. "How did that happen, exactly?" He doesn't seem angry, as Desmond would have expected. More curious, and maybe a little resigned. So Desmond explains the animus, as best he can.

"I don't know why you're in my head, though," he says. "It's like, somehow the animus got reversed... but that doesn't even make sense-" he trails off, because the apple has suddenly caught his attention. It rests on the ground between them, glowing gently, still in the same place it was in when he woke up. "What's this doing here?" he asks.

But before Altair can answer, he hears voices. Faint at first, then louder. And just as he thinks he can recognize them, he wakes up, back in the real world, and there are Lucy and Rebecca and Shaun, all talking at once.

"Thank God," says Lucy. "I wasn't sure we'd be able to pull you out."

Desmond mutters something, but he's barely paying attention, and he doesn't look at her. He can see Altair now, half visible, standing just behind the other three.

"Are you okay?" Rebecca asks.

"Yea," Desmond says, and forces himself to pay attention. "Fine. What happened?"

"Nothing," says Rebecca. She darts away from him, back to her computer, where she starts pointing to a series of numbers and data that mean absolutely nothing to him. "See, when I tried to hook you into your ancestor's memory, it sort of... rejected you halfway through. Like, part of your brain could sync to the memory, but the rest couldn't."

Desmond tries not to look at Altair.

"I'll run through the code tonight and we'll try again tomorrow." Rebecca sighs and rubs her face. "It might just be from all the time you spent going through Altair's memories. It might just be taking a while for your brain to switch tracks."

"I've never heard of that happening before," Lucy says.

"And the animus doesn't affect everyone the same way," says Rebecca. She turns to Desmond. "You might as well get some rest. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."


	11. Chapter 11

Altair sleeps badly, sitting with his back to a wall that faces the door. He nods off and wakes again five or six times before giving up. He wishes he was back in Masyaf. It feels too strange here, and no matter how hard he tries he can't quite relax. There's nothing familiar here.

It's either very late or very early, and everyone else is asleep. The last time Altair nodded off, Rebecca was still at her desk, working through something and occasionally mumbling to herself, but now her desk is deserted.

After a while, Desmond says something, but it's in English- so many meaningless syllables to Altair without Desmond's mind to translate for him- and rolls over on the bed. He's breathing hard, and his face is twisted in pain. He says something else, louder this time, and Altair approaches the bed on silent feet. Nightmares, probably made worse by the physical pain.

Altair had shared a room with a dozen other novices for most of his childhood. Nightmares were common there, but as the boys got older, they faded away, or learned to stay quiet.

Desmond cries out again and half curls up on the bed, knees drawn in, head down, and it strikes Altair for the first time how young Desmond is. Not in years lived- he doesn't think their ages are too far apart- but in experience. Living through someone else's memories could show him what it meant to have an assassin's skills, but there are some things everyone has to learn for themselves.

Like how to avoid the nightmares.

"Desmond," he says quietly. "Wake up." When Desmond doesn't wake, Altair gives him a light shove- just enough to wake him. Desmond's eyes shoot open and Altair sees panic and confusion there before he remembers where he is, and relaxes.

"What's the matter?" he asks.

"You were having a nightmare," Altair says, and Desmond sits up, suddenly looking anywhere except directly at Altair.

"Yea," he says. His voice is casual, almost too casual. "They started back at Abstergo. It's not a big deal. They're just dreams."

"They're going to get worse," says Altair. "Especially if you ignore them."

"I'm fine," Desmond insists. "Why do you even care, anyway?" He does look at Altair now, and there's something defiant in his eyes.

"You're not used to being with people," Altair guesses. He sits on the opposite side of the bed from Desmond, legs crossed, and studies him.

"What-" Desmond shrugs. "I've been on my own for a long time," he says. "Since I was sixteen. I've had to figure out a lot of things on my own. I'll get through this too."

The sheer stubbornness annoys him, and Altair shakes his head. He remembers spending months suffering through nightmares of his own before he would let anyone help him, but he doesn't say this. "Just because you can do something on your own doesn't mean you should," he says, and sighs. He can't stop himself from thinking about Solomon's Temple, and wonders if he'll be having nightmares of his own later. "I've learned that the hard way."

For a long time, Desmond looks at him without saying a word. Then he asks, "What do I do?"

"Stay calm," says Altair. "Your nightmares are going to be things you don't want to think about or memories you don't want to revisit. You block them out during the day, so they come to you at night, when your guard is down. But they're only thoughts and memories. They can only hurt you if you let them."

"That's a lot easier to say than to do," says Desmond.

"Nothing ever is," says Altair, and suddenly something starts ringing loudly. Altair stands, startled but ready to react to whatever it is, but stops suddenly when Desmond laughs. "What?"

"It's just someone's alarm clock," Desmond says, and sighs as he stands as well. "Time for another exciting day in the animus." He starts to move, then checks himself. "I was thinking- if you can, you should probably stay out of my head today. I don't think the animus is going to work if we're both going in at once."

Altair nods. "I'll try," he says. "But I can't exactly control it."

"Guess that's the best I can ask for," Desmond says. He rubs at his face and yawns. "See you later, then."

Altair watches as Desmond meets up with the others, says a few words, and then settles himself into the animus. Rebecca and Shaun spend a few minutes talking quietly and pointing to something, until finally they seem to find what they're looking for. The animus whirs softly, something is starting-

And then Altair sees a bright flash of light, and when it fades, he's back in his own bed at Masyaf.


	12. Chapter 12

This time, the animus works perfectly, and Desmond finds himself loaded into another memory, another ancestor-

_dark... warm... safe..._

But something doesn't feel right. He has no idea where he is, but after a minute or two he realizes his ancestor isn't breathing at all, but somehow he's not dying, either. But he doesn't get much time to think about it, because suddenly it all kicks off and for a long time there's just a mess of confusion and pain and sudden light and at some point Desmond realizes this is the memory of _his ancestor's birth_, and he starts to freak out a little because this is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to him.

And suddenly he's out, but something's wrong, because his ancestor still isn't breathing, and he knows that's not right, and for a second he panics- there's noise and confusion all around him, but he doesn't recognize the language, and the infant whose brain he's sharing is too busy dying to be any help. Not that a newborn would know what they were saying anyway.

_Just breathe! _Desmond urges, in the silence of their shared mind. _Breathe! _But it's no good, because this baby was born and lived and died- he didn't even know how long ago. But whatever happened is out of his control, it's history, and if Desmond is around in the first place to share these memories, the baby must have lived-

But he still doesn't breathe. Desmond can feel the baby's panic and confusion slipping away, and there's a cold emptiness to his mind that terrifies him. He tries to stay calm, but it's hard. He's helpless, and somehow he knows this baby is going to die.

But... suddenly, he remembers Altair, and his ancestor's claim that he could feel Desmond in his mind while Desmond was reliving his memories in the animus. And then he thinks of the dead guards at Abstergo, the ones Altair killed using Desmond's body.

If Altair could kill those men, he can save this baby.

_Breathe, _Desmond thinks again, and imagines himself taking a deep breath. _Breathe!_

But still the baby doesn't breathe, he's still slipping away, and suddenly there's a moment when he's almost gone, and Desmond is almost alone in the tiny, dying body, and for a second Desmond's the one in control, and he takes the baby's first breath for him.

Oxygen and life come flooding in together, and Desmond feels the child's mind stir slightly. He retreats into the back of the baby's mind, exhausted from that tiny effort, and waits for the memory to finish.

Around him, the child's family is ecstatic- probably they thought he'd been about to die. Well, he doesn't blame them. He'd assumed the exact same thing. The baby's panic fades a little, but Desmond can still feel his fear and uncertainty. He guesses that being born must kind of be a surprise, if you're not expecting it.

On cue, the baby starts to cry, which is good because that's what babies are supposed to do and bad because he's still afraid. He's spent nine months in the safety of the womb and suddenly here he is, all on his own for the rest of his life. _It's alright-_ he thinks, and then realizes the kid won't understand, if he can even tell that Desmond's there. So he tries to share the feelings of the words, and not the words themselves. _It's alright,_ he tries again. _You're not alone_.

And, perfectly on cue, the memory ends.

**-/-**

**Well, this story took a sudden turn into 'I don't know where this is going' land. Oh well. Guess we'll find out. :)**


	13. Chapter 13

He wakes up, and at first it's like nothing even happened. The room is exactly the same as the one he's used to seeing, and so for a second, he doesn't realize what's missing. And then he remembers. The apple- after everything that's happened, the apple is gone.

Altair mumbles a curse, because he's been having a really bad couple of days, and this is exactly what he does not need right now. But it only takes a minute to see that no, there's nowhere the apple could have fallen or rolled, that it's just _gone_. Which is going to be difficult to explain.

But he doesn't have much time to think about it because there are so many other things to worry about. The order is in chaos, and the dead and injured have not even been fully counted yet. There are things to do, and somehow Altair is the one left doing them. He doesn't have more than a moment to himself until a few hours after sunset. No one quite makes the decision that it's time to stop for the day, there's just a moment when he looks around and realizes that all is quiet- for now.

He's down by the training ring, not for any particular reason, just because he finds himself with a restless itch to be outside, and this is the first place he comes to. He's only been there a few minutes, though, before he realizes there's someone walking up behind him. He feels them more than hears them, and turns to see Malik walking down the path.

"Safety and peace," Altair greets him, but for once Malik doesn't bother to reply.

"Busy day," he says instead.

"You have no idea," Altair answers. He feels like he hasn't slept in a week, an the longest rest he's had lately was after Desmond's body passed out in Lucy's trunk.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No," Altair says. There's no way he can share what he's seen with anyone and not sound insane.

"Good," says Malik. "I didn't come here to listen to you whine."

"Always good talking to you, Malik," Altair says.

"What do you plan to do with the apple?" Malik says, and Altair sighs.

"Nothing," he says. He can't lie to Malik, not after Al Mualim's betrayal. A few weeks ago, he would have laughed to think that Malik would be the one person at Masyaf he felt he could trust. But the world is a strange place. "I lost it."

"Already?" Malik demands. "Altair, you've had it for one day."

Altair doesn't mention that it was already gone when he woke up. There's a difference between being honest and presenting himself as a target for Malik's sharp tongue. "I have no idea where it's gone," he admits. "But I will find it."

"You'll find it," Malik repeats. "How do you expect to track it down when you couldn't even keep your eyes on it for a single day?"

"I'm still figuring it all out," Altair says. "But-" and he stops, because something's happening. He holds up his hands, and can't stop himself from staring as though he's never seen them before. His arms- all of his skin, for that matter, is gently glowing, pulsing with a soft golden light.

As he watches, the light grows brighter, resolving into lines that crisscross his body in a pattern that looks disturbingly familiar.

"The apple..." he says, and trails off. Malik is equally speechless, so after a long pause Altair tries again. "I think it has more secrets than we assumed."

"It's... merged with you," Malik says.

"Or something else." Altair doesn't feel safe making any assumptions right now. It's true that the patterns forming under his skin are the same as the ones he remembers seeing on the apple earlier, but his world- which used to be so solid under his feet- has been tilted so far sideways he doesn't know which way is up anymore. And every time he thinks he's starting to understand what's going on, another mystery presents itself.

The light begins to fade, and Altair looks over at Malik. In that look, there is understanding- not of the apple, but of each other. He knows that neither of them will rest until they understand what's going on. And he knows the time for secrets has passed. By the time the light has gone completely, retreating back into his body (waiting, Altair thinks), he is deep into the true story of what he's been through during the last few days.

**-/-**

**And I thought this was going to be a short/simple story... but no seriously guys I have no idea what's going on here. Fun times.**


	14. Chapter 14

He's crying when he comes out of the animus, actually crying. He can feel the tears on his face, and there's a roughness in his throat that shows when he tries to swallow. He's not sure if they're his tears, panicking as he felt himself running out of air, or the baby's tears bleeding through. Either way, he can feel his face turning red, and he tries not to be obvious about it as he wipes his face. Lucy turns pointedly away, pretending like she doesn't notice, and he's absurdly grateful.

"How was it?" Rebecca asks, after he's collected himself.

"Weird," Desmond says. "I don't think I've ever thought about what it feels like to be born, but that wasn't what I was expecting." His voice sounds like he's been crying, but no one says anything, so he goes on. "That was-" he shakes his head. "That's the weirdest thing I've ever done."

"Well, congratulations on being probably the only human ever to remember being born," Shaun says, and Desmond makes a face.

"I think that's an honor I'd rather pass on," he says. "Who was that kid, anyway?"

"Ezio Auditore da Firenze," Lucy says.

"Kind of a mouthful," says Desmond. "Why did I just have to see his memories of getting born?"

"Because your sync rate with him is terrible," Shaun says.

"Thank you, Shaun," Lucy says loudly. "But... well, he's right, actually." She glares at him. "You just didn't have to say it like that."

"Hey, Lucy." Desmond manages a weak smile. "Just because I was born this morning doesn't mean I can't take an insult."

"That's not funny," Lucy says.

"It's a little funny," says Shaun.

"Now you're on his side." Lucy rolls her eyes. "Anyway, Desmond, here's what's going on. We need to go through some later memories of Ezio's, but like Shaun said, your sync rate is low. This is as close as we could get."

"So I have to work my way up to... whenever these important memories are?" Desmond asks.

"Sorry," says Lucy. "It's the best we can do."

"It's fine," Desmond says. "I'll deal with it. I- _shit!_" He flinches back, throwing a hand over his face as a blinding golden light abruptly fills the apartment. He squints into it and for a second he can see Altair in the light, burning with light, and then everything is back to normal and Desmond can feel the pressure of someone else in his mind.

"Desmond?" Lucy asks. "You okay?"

"Y-yea," says Desmond. "I just- having a weird day."

"And let's break for breakfast," Rebecca suggests. They split off and Desmond tries to get up. "Don't worry about it," Rebecca calls, already pulling coffee out of a bag. "You don't know where anything is. We'll put you on cleanup duty later."

Desmond nods, because he's more interested in what's going on inside his head than what's going on around him. As soon as no one's paying him any attention he closes his eyes and thinks, _"What's going on?"_ as loudly as he can.

There's no direct answer, but a second later Desmond's in the middle of an onslaught of memories, ones he can only guess are what happened to Altair during the time he spent in the animus. He watches an entire day go past, and he's busy trying to figure out how that works when he gets to the part where Altair seems to _become _an apple.

_"So you're not having a great day either," _he says. He thinks it, really, and right away feels dumb.

_"No." _Altair's voice inside his head sounds more distant than he's used to hearing it inside the animus, but at least he can hear him at all. Desmond feels a little less stupid.

_"So did you do that on purpose?" _Desmond asks. Seeing memories like this is different from seeing them in the animus. He's seeing events from the outside, instead of trying to sync with them. _"Or..."_

_"No," _Altair says again. _"I don't know why I left, or how I came back."_

He sounds frustrated, and Desmond says, _"I'm sorry," _because he knows Altair must have more important worries than him, and better things to do than tag along inside his head, or follow him around.

"Hey Desmond!" Rebecca calls. "Food's ready."

"Alright," he says, and limps over to the rest of the group.

He doesn't hear anything more from Altair, but as he's sitting down for breakfast, he feels a mess of emotions go tearing through his head- Altair's hesitation, because he really does have important hings to do in Masyaf, and he doesn't know who else will do them for him. His worry, because he wants to control whatever's going on with them, and he can't. But nowhere does he feel anger directed toward him. And just like that, his day gets a little bit better. If he has to share a body with his ancestor, maybe they can at least get along with each other.


	15. Chapter 15

As soon as the group is finished eating, Rebecca directs Desmond back into the animus. Altair, still riding along inside Desmond's head, can only wait to see what will happen this time- the group's first try at getting the animus to sync with both of them inside ended with both of them knocked out. The second try Altair had managed to miss by accidentally fleeing the century, and he isn't looking forward to try number three.

_"It'll be fine," _Desmond tells him.

_"You can't possibly know that,"_ Altair points out.

_"It worked okay last time."_

_"I wasn't here last time," _Altair says, which shuts Desmond up.

The animus powers up, and Desmond shuts his eyes. They both wait for a beat, and then abruptly, with no transition, Altair is back at Masyaf, exactly as though he has never left. Malik still stands in front of him, wearing the same expression of badly concealed disbelief. "That's quite a story," he says.

Altair nods, still trying to adjust to the abrupt transitions. Back and forth across time and space, twice in less than an hour, is exhausting. He sways a little, but manages to catch himself. Malik notices, of course- the way he narrows his eyes and gives Altair a searching glare gives it away- but he says nothing.

"What do we do about this?" Malik asks. "This can't keep happening. If you were to disappear again-"

"It wouldn't matter," Altair interrupts. "No one would even be able to tell."

He can almost see Malik putting the pieces together in his head, before the other man asks, "It happened just now, didn't it? While we were talking?"

"Yes."

"Damn it, Altair!" Malik cries, and the sudden outburst startles Altair. "This is- how can you stand there and be so calm about all this?"

"Because being angry isn't going to help," Altair says. "And if I am to figure a way out of this, I can't afford to rush in, either."

Malik looks at him for a long moment before he says, "The man I knew a month ago would never be able to see the truth of that." He sighs, and studies Altair again. This time, Altair has the uncomfortable feeling that Malik is seeing him as an object more than a person. At last, he says, "I think it's obvious that the apple has somehow caused this."

"Probably," Altair agrees. "But we don't know anything about how it works."

"Then you'll have to find out," says Malik. "If it's a part of you now, you may be able to control it."

Altair scowls, and looks down at his hands again. The memory of the way they suddenly lit up earlier is still fresh in his mind. "That won't be easy," he says.

"Definitely not," Malik says. "It will probably take many days of patience and study." And then he smiles. "Two things you have always done well in."

Altair glares back at him without any real anger. He knows that if he starts taking Malik's sarcasm seriously, he will never have time for anything else.

**-/-**

**I'm just going to go ahead and apologize right now for anyone that's got this story on alerts. (I'm also going to question your taste, because obviously this story is awful), because this is the fifteenth chapter in like four days, and I'm not planning on stopping anytime soon. Slowing down, maybe, because at some point all the homework I'm not doing is going to catch up with me, but hopefully stopping is not in the agenda here.**


	16. Chapter 16

For just over a week, nothing at all exciting happens. Desmond spends most of his days in the animus, learning from Ezio as best he can, and trying as much as possible to keep his ancestor from finding him, hiding in the back of his mind or watching from a distance. It isn't easy. Everything in Rebecca's version of the animus is clearer than the animus at Abstergo was. It makes it easier for him to learn Ezio's skillset, but it also means that Ezio comes very close to finding Desmond, very often.

It doesn't help that he sometimes has to interfere. Just a little. He knows it's a bad idea, but in Ezio's earliest memories, he's just a kid running around in robes that mean nothing to him, a blade he doesn't know how to use strapped to his arm. And Desmond feels for him a little, because he's never going to forget what it felt like to wake up in the animus for the first time, and realize that everything he's ever known is wrong, and the world is so much weirder than he ever could have imagined.

He helps when he can, which isn't often. Ezio is untrained, but Desmond isn't much better. But he can offer an extra pair of eyes, at least, and more than once in the early sequences, Desmond has to warn Ezio away from a guard that the boy hasn't seen yet, or a roof that's farther away than it looks. He can't let Ezio know he's there- honestly, he's still getting used to sharing his head with Altair, and he doesn't want to risk Ezio moving in too. So he tries to sort of guide him away, with feelings of caution and watchfulness, and once- when Ezio's about two feet away from a guard he hasn't even notice- genuine _oh shit we're going to die_ panic. Mostly, it works.

And then Ezio watches his family die, and the sudden flood of fear and anger and horror are so intense that Desmond finds himself pushed to the very edge of Ezio's mind, somehow even more powerless than usual, carried along on a tidal wave of emotions. It doesn't let up for a very long time. Not until Ezio has said goodbye to Christina, and buried his father and brothers. Then, finally alone, Ezio climbs the tallest building he can find, sits down on a roof, and doesn't move at all.

That worries Desmond. He's never seen Ezio so quiet and still, and he's never felt his mind so completely empty. Suddenly he feels like the only one in the body, with Ezio just a tiny spark in the distance.

It doesn't look like Ezio's planning to get moving anytime soon, and Desmond isn't sure that his usual tactics are going to work. So he takes a chance.

_"Don't stop here," _he tells Ezio. _"There's going to be guards soon, probably. And worse." _Templars, he doesn't say, because he knows it won't mean anything to Ezio. Not yet.

_"What am I going to do..?" _Ezio asks, and Desmond can't tell if it's meant for him, or the universe in general.

But the universe doesn't answer, so Desmond says, _"You're going to get up, and find your mother and sister and get them out of the city. As soon as you can."_

_"I can't do this..." _Ezio bites his lip and stares down at the street. Desmond can see a pair of guards working their way toward them, questioning anyone that stands still long enough. Ezio doesn't seem to notice. _"I can't do it alone."_

_"Lucky you then," _Desmond says. _"Because you're stuck with me for a while."_

And maybe that does it. Or maybe Ezio's not listening at all, doesn't even know Desmond's there, and he makes the decision all on his own. Either way, he gets up, and moves on less than thirty seconds before Desmond hears the guards spot them on the roof. And they run...

That's the last time Desmond ever talks to Ezio, and Ezio spends so much of his time trying not to think about that day, Desmond's pretty sure his ancestor doesn't even remember the conversation. But Desmond does.

Apart from that, his time in the animus goes as it's supposed to. He learns.

Outside the animus, though, everything is a little uncertain. Sometimes, he shares a brain with Altair. Sometimes his ancestor is just there- like a hallucination but not. He's sure he's not hallucinating, no matter how many times Lucy warns him that it could happen. "It won't happen," he tells her once.

"You can't be sure," Lucy says.

So he shrugs, and promises to be careful, and glances over at Altair, who's standing five feet away.

And when Altair's not in the hideout, which is every time Desmond's in the animus, he's in Masyaf, trying to rebuild the shattered remnants of the assassin order or figure out what's going on with him and the apple. Desmond can see the stress eating away at his ancestor a little bit more every time he comes out of the animus, and feel it clearly when they're sharing a mind.

But while his life doesn't work well, it is definitely working. Lucy, Shaun, and Rebecca have no idea Altair is there, so he doesn't have to defend his sanity to them. Ezio is equally clueless, so he feels a little safer. And the training Ezio gets translates perfectly onto Desmond's muscle memory. He's having nightmares, but they're getting better. It helps to know that he'll never wake up alone. And his injuries from the Abstergo escape bother him less every day.

And then something goes wrong.

**-/-**

**So, uh... it occurs to me that while most people choose to say thank you to the people that review/favorite/follow their stories, I kind of went the other way and insulted you in the last chapter... so whoops, sorry about that, you guys are actually all really nice and I would give you all cookies if it wasn't creepy to give cookies to strangers and also if I wouldn't rather just eat them all myself.**


	17. Chapter 17

Altair is with Malik when he feels the by now familiar tug that means it's time to return to the future. He has time for an exasperated sigh- it is getting really tiring to be constantly pulled between two different centuries- and in the next breath he's in Desmond's body, lying still in the animus. He feels a brief flicker of annoyance- he's never been good at sitting still, but he has no other choice on days when he has to share a body. At least when he's a hallucination, or a ghost, or whatever state of being the apple sends him into, he can move.

"Oi, Desmond," Shaun calls. "Do you want to get up now?"

And that's when it hits Altair that he's alone in the body. Or almost alone. He can feel Desmond, out cold, buried somewhere in the bottom of his own mind. He stands up, slowly. This is the first time he's had control of the body in a non emergency situation, the only time apart from the Abstergo escape. But something's wrong with Desmond now, so maybe it is an emergency.

"Are you okay?" Rebecca asks, and Altair realizes he's just standing in front of the animus.

"Fine," Altair says. "I need to see the recordings from that last session."

"What?"

"I-" he hesitates. He's guessing something went wrong in the animus. It's the first answer that comes to him for why he's walking around in a body that isn't his, speaking in a voice that isn't his. But he can't come right out and say that. So instead, he says, "I thought I saw something right at the end, but I couldn't tell from where I was standing."

"What do you think you saw?" Rebecca asks, but at least she's tapping away on her computer, getting the video ready.

"I'm not sure," Altair says. "I need to see it again." He leans in, carefully- he's used to being a passenger here, and Desmond's built differently than he is. Four inches taller, at least.

The video runs, and Altair does his best to look like he's seen it before. He's got a pretty good idea of what's happened with Ezio- he's never been in the animus himself, but he has been in Desmond's head. And that's almost the same thing. So he knows that Ezio's had the apple for a while (he wonders if it's the same one that's causing him so much trouble, or if there's more than one apple out there).

Or had the apple, anyway- he watches as Ezio loses the apple to a stranger dressed like a monk, before losing consciousness. And then the memory ends, with Ezio still completely out of it- and apparently Desmond as well. Altair glares at the screen- so _this _is how the bleeding effect finally shows itself. Ezio blacks out, and so does Desmond, which leaves Altair in charge of someone else's body, and also with a question.

Desmond is gone because Ezio is injured and unconscious. Altair wants to believe that Desmond will wake up on his own, and he's willing to wait a while to see if he's going to. But he has a bad feeling that's not going to happen.

He shakes his head, inwardly berating Ezio for not staying on his feet, so he wouldn't have this problem.

"Did you see it again?" Rebecca asks.

"No," Altair says. "I must have been wrong."

He starts to walk away, still moving carefully, but Rebecca calls him back. "Hey, Desmond?"

"What?"

"Are you feeling okay?" Rebecca asks. "Because you're acting sort of..."

He can read it on her face- she thinks he's bleeding. He almost laughs, but luckily he doesn't laugh easily. That would almost definitely have convinced her he was insane. And that would have been a real disappointment after all the effort he's seen Desmond go to, keeping him a secret.

So. On top of getting Desmond back into his own body, he has to act less like himself and more like his descendant. Alright then. "Yea," he says, and forces a smile (Desmond smiles more than he does). It feels strange. "Yea, sorry. Just tired."

"Right," says Rebecca. "Try and get some rest tonight, alright?"

"Sure," says Altair. He turns away, and three steps later trips over Desmond's too-tall feet. He gets up, trying not to look embarrassed- and then realizes that Desmond probably wouldn't bother, and lets his face turn red. This is confusing.

"Smooth," Shaun calls, from the other side of the room.


	18. Chapter 18

The time passes slowly for Altair. He's surprised by how hard it is to impersonate Desmond- after all, he's had little to do for the past week other than watch him, and Altair usually prides himself as a good observer. Maybe he hasn't been watching carefully enough, or maybe it's just a lot harder than it seems to pretend to be another person.

And maybe it's worse because he has confidence in his own skin. He knows exactly how his body works- how quickly he can react, what his limits are, how long he can keep going. But Desmond's doesn't work the same, and maybe if Altair was untrained, he wouldn't notice as much. Instead, every move he makes strikes him as wrong, and he can tell the others have noticed. It frustrates him, because he should be so much better than this.

And then there are the little things, the ones no one else sees. Altair and Desmond have different tastes- he's noticed it before at meal times, but now he has to remember to reach for the foods that Desmond would choose first (it does help that none of the food here is similar enough to food from his own time to throw him off). He's constantly surprised when he looks down at his left hand and sees five fingers there. At night, he settles in to sleep, only to find himself in a body that's used to sleeping in a different position. And muscle memory is a powerful thing.

Two days pass, and in all that time, Desmond doesn't stir at all. On the second morning, Altair wakes up and realizes that he needs to do something if he wants this to change. He's been trying not to think about what this is doing to Desmond, but he knows it can't be good.

He hears a voice nearby, and it takes a couple tries before he realizes that the voice is trying to catch his attention. Answering to someone else's name- something else he still can't quite get used to. He looks up and there's Shaun, wearing his usual long suffering look.

"What?" he says.

"Are you just going to sit there all morning?" Shaun asks. "Rebeca's got the animus set up for you."

"The animus," says Altair. "Right." He's not too sure how this is going to work. The one time he and Desmond tried to go into he animus together, it rejected them completely. Altair still had no idea what had gone wrong then, but Desmond had guessed that it probably wasn't built for two minds at once. After all, he'd pointed out, his genetic information hadn't changed just because Altair was there too. But Desmond wasn't exactly a scientist, and Altair had no idea if the animus would reject him now- if it would pick up on Desmond, asleep at the back of his own mind, or if it could somehow realize that Altair wasn't the person that was supposed to be there.

But he couldn't exactly say anything without raising Shaun's suspicions, and he couldn't really hope for it to work in the long run. He'd just been lucky they'd been planning a rest day for yesterday anyway. He knew he didn't have any chance of avoiding today's session.

So he doesn't argue, just follows Shaun to the animus, climbs in, tries to act like this isn't the first time he's done this. His instinct is to stay quiet as the others run their checks and do their set up, but Desmond usually spends this time hiding nerves behind a curtain of pointless chatter.

Altair isn't very good at idle conversations.

But finally the world around him breaks apart- Altair realizes he's holding his breath, and forces himself to breathe normally. After a second that seems to last forever, the world of the animus builds around him, and suddenly he's in the strange position of being inside Desmond's body while sharing a mind with Ezio.

The Italian's mind feels strange to Altair, who's gotten used to sharing with Desmond. Ezio's mind is constantly moving. Even now, with his body covered in injuries (Altair can feel them, and he guesses that Ezio must still be recovering from the incident he saw earlier, where he last the apple), his mind is racing a mile a minute. It feels a little like watching a spider run, all eight legs moving at once in a confusion that shouldn't quite work but somehow does.

It's different from Desmond's mind, which Altair decides is more like a wind. Sometimes he's quiet, or depressed, his mind focused on one problem, worrying at it like a persistent breeze. Other times, his mind is like a strong wind that catches everything in its path and carries it along. It can be changeable, but never without changing everything around it.

"Desmond." Lucy's voice seems to come from nowhere, and it takes Altair a second to remember that he's not really here, that his- or Desmond's- body is lying on the animus five hundred years in the future. "Your sync rate's really low. Try and focus, alright?"

Right. Altair gives himself a mental shake, and turns his attention back to the scene in front of him. He's already handicapped by not actually being Desmond. If he wants to get through this, he's going to need to give it his full attention.

Something flickers in the back of his mind. Just a little, but it's enough for Altair to recognize the shape of Desmond's mind stirring, and suddenly it falls into place for him. When Ezio was injured, Desmond's mind shut down. Now that Ezio is beginning to recover, Desmond starts to wake up. So all Altair needs to do is play out the memories until Ezio is back on his feet.

Easy, he tells himself, and knows that it won't be.

**-/-**

**Here, have a chapter, and also my apologies because I wrote it between 5:30 and 6:30 in the morning.**


	19. Chapter 19

At first, Ezio tries to ignore the sense that something is wrong inside his head. In the weeks it takes him to fully recover from his injuries, he tells himself that he's just not feeling well. In the months after that, as he tracks down and eliminates Savanarola's followers in Firenze, he decides it must be stress.

But by the time he finally returns to Monteriggioni, he knows it's not in his head.

Well- it _is _in his head (that's the whole point). But he's not imagining it. It feels like there's someone else there, watching through his eyes, and he doesn't like it. It reminds him of days he'd rather forget- of his father's death, and the voice he heard in his head that told him to stop feeling sorry for himself and to get moving-

He's spent decades trying not to think about that day, and now he mostly feels annoyed that whoever (whatever?) is is in his head now is forcing these memories back up. And he feels worried, too, because this isn't the same person as the first time. It feels different in a way he can't describe.

He can't bring himself to mention the stranger in his head to anyone else- he doesn't want to hear them say he might be losing his mind, even if he's starting to think they might be right. So instead, the first chance he gets after arriving back at the villa, he heads below ground, to the sanctuary filled with statues of long dead assassins.

He sits himself down on the ground, leaning against the stone wall, and looks around the familiar room. He's spent countless hours down here over the years, whenever he needs to be alone, but now he abruptly feels something like shock or surprise crawl up from the back of his head, wash over him, and then just as abruptly vanish. Ezio jumps to his feet, cursing, because these are feelings that aren't coming from him- he _knows_ it came from the... (he takes a second to grasp for a word, but the best he can come up with is spirit) the spirit that sits in the back of his mind.

"Alright," he says, because right now he's angry and worried, and he doesn't even care that he's yelling into empty space. "We need to talk about his, you- whoever you are, because I don't have time for whatever game you're playing right now! I'm having a bad year, and I can't lose my mind right now." He stops and then adds, "Or at all, actually," because it's probably better to be safe than sorry with strangers that live in your head. "So if you would just _leave_, that would be a really big help."

Nothing happens- the spirit doesn't retreat or grow stronger. It just sits there, in the back of his brain, somehow managing to seem like it's not even paying attention.

Ezio sits back down, all the anger suddenly gone, drained out by sheer helplessness. He was wrong, earlier- he's not having a bad year, he's just stuck in the middle of a life that's been going downhill since he was seventeen. And now the thing in his head is ignoring him.

He looks across the sanctuary to where the statue of Altair stands. Somehow, the spirit gets more agitated as he focuses his attention there, but Ezio ignores it. "I bet you never had to deal with problems like this when you were alive," he complains.

The statue doesn't answer, obviously, but the spirit in his head finally speaks.

_"Idiot,"_ it says.

**-/-**

**So... not really happy with this one. Mostly because grumpy Ezio isn't a lot of fun to write, but at least it means the whole Minerva encounter thing is coming up soon. I'm looking forward to that bit a lot. Anyway, actual important announcement thing: depending on a bunch of factors (such as how lazy I feel, how many more chapters this story gets, blah blah blah), I might start going back and combining the earlier chapters in longer ones, because nineteen chapters is sort of ridiculous. Or I might not! I don't know. We'll find out. So I guess if you see this getting a bunch of updates but nothing's happening... that's why.**


	20. Chapter 20

Seeing the statue of himself jars Altair, nearly enough to drop his sync rate with Ezio down to zero, and kick him from the animus. At the last second, as Ezio bursts into an angry rant, he manages to save it. It's not the first time he's almost managed to completely detach himself from the memory- he's not even related to Ezio, and it doesn't help that Desmond is coming closer to consciousness every minute, making it very crowded in Ezio's head. Of course, he wouldn't complain if Desmond would just wake up faster and kick him out altogether. It's all he can do to stay in the animus at all, and he knows he's doing a terrible job of hiding himself from Ezio. He doesn't like being bad at things; it's put him in a foul mood.

He manages to pull it all back together, barely, at about the same time Ezio's pouting on the floor. He says, "I bet you never had to deal with problems like this when you were alive." And for just a beat, as Altair sits in a stranger's head, trying to keep everyone's brain from pouring out their ears, he wants to laugh. Instead, and before he can stop himself, he thinks- _"Idiot_," just a little too loudly.

And then he has exactly one second to make a decision- he knows he's made a mistake, knows it even before he feels Ezio react. The other assassin opens his mouth, probably to say something that will completely tip off anyone that happens to be watching the animus recording. And just at that moment, Desmond wakes up. The animus reacts as violently as it did the first time they tried going in together, and this time it somehow manages to hurt even more.

But it saves them- when Altair manages to get to his feet- the pain has left both him and Desmond on their knees in the same empty field where they spoke for the first time- Ezio is nowhere to be seen. Altair feels a little flicker of guilt when he realizes that Desmond's going to be the one to deal with him during his next animus session, but he's the one that's better at hiding from Ezio, anyway.

Desmond's still on his knees, so Altair walks over to him, offers him a hand. "Are you alright?" he asks. "You've been out of it for a couple of days."

Desmond gives him a panicked look and says something in Italian. For a second, Altair thinks that maybe the animus somehow it's Ezio and not Desmond in the empty field with him, but then Desmond offers a weak smile and mutters, "Sorry."

"It's fine." Not that he has anything against Ezio (although he does think the man can be a little more dramatic than he needs to be, sometimes). It's just that everything's confusing enough already. "The Italian's new." He knows that Desmond can pick up on languages extremely fast inside the animus- after all, every verbal conversation they've had is in Altair's native language, not Desmond's- but he hasn't heard him let loose in Italian yet.

"Yea," Desmond says. "The last thing I remember, I was in the animus, and Ezio was getting the shit kicked out of him, and I think we both blacked out-"

Altair nods. "When they pulled you out of the animus, you were still out of it. That was the night before last."

"Are you joking?" Desmond demands.

"No," Altair says. Of course not. He doesn't really joke much.

"Shit," says Desmond, and then follows it with similar sentiments in two other languages. "So when I wake up I'm going to have to put up with Shaun laughing at me for a week for fainting?"

"No, actually," says Altair. "You weren't awake, but I was-"

"So you've just been running around in my body for the past day and a half?" Desmond demands. "Why would you do that?"

"What do you mean?" Altair asks. "Desmond, you were out cold, I didn't even know what was going on in the beginning. And I didn't think you'd want anyone else to know. I thought I was doing you a favor."

"You weren't!" Desmond says. "Alright? I already have to deal with you in my head, and me in Ezio's head, but when I'm in my body, I'm supposed to be the one in control! That's all I have right now!"

Altair's eyes narrow. "You're not the only one with problems. Every time we're both in your head, I have to sit there, and watch, because when you're 'in control', I'm helpless. And when we separate it's only a little bit better because yes I have my own body but I can't do anything with it, because I'm basically a ghost. And then when I go back to Masyaf, I have to keep a group of assassins from falling apart which is not easy, by the way. And the apple of eden is inside me, and I don't know what that means. Oh, and in case you were wondering, I'm pretty sure Ezio thinks he's crazy too, so stop making this an issue about you. However you want to look at this, we're stuck with each other."

At the end of this outburst, Desmond doesn't say anything for several minutes. Then finally- "Why does Ezio think he's crazy?"

Altair looks away. "I might have called him an idiot."

"Why?"

"The giant statue of me in his basement sort of caught me off guard!" Altair says. "You could have mentioned it."

"Sorry," Desmond says, and to Altair's surprise he's laughing. "I thought it might give you a swelled head."

"Why?" Altair demands. But Desmond's laughter is catching, and he feels his anger start to cool a little. "It's an embarrassment. Giant statues and- and some stranger looking up to me like I have all the answers-"

"Well I hope you weren't too harsh," Desmond says. "I think you're sort of his hero."

"I called him an idiot right before you woke up and we got kicked out of the animus," Altair says. "So have fun with that."

Desmond sighs. "Figures," he says. "I'll see what I can do."

The field around them starts to fade, and Altair says, "Looks like we're waking up."

"Right," says Desmond. And then- "Look, I'm sorry- you were right. Whatever our problems are, we have to solve them together. We don't have a choice right now."

Altair nods, a little surprised. He hadn't really expected an apology, and he doesn't know how to answer it. So he just says, "See you in the real world." And everything goes away.


	21. Chapter 21

"Hey! Look who's up!"

"Ah-" Desmond sits up on his bed and winces. He's alone in his head today- he glances up and there's Altair perched on the end of his bed, looking completely collected and calm- but it's throbbing like it's about to burst. "Rebecca, can you just keep it down a little?" he asks. "My head's killing me."

"Sorry."

"How did I get into bed?" he asks.

"Well, after the animus chewed you up and spat you back out, Shaun brought you over."

"Great," says Desmond. "He's never going to let me forget that."

"Probably not," Rebecca agrees. "Well, I'm glad you're awake, but I need to get back to work on the animus. It's rejected you twice now. Next time, who knows? There could be brain damage."

"Wait, Rebecca-"

"Yea?"

He feels bad, knowing that the reason the animus stopped working is sitting on the end of his bed, not six inches from where Rebecca stands. But he doesn't know what to say. "It's probably not the animus. I mean, there could be lots of reasons. Like, ah-" he draws a blank.

"Low synchronization during the last session," Altair provides.

"Like a bad sync rate," Desmond repeats. "Yea, I mean- I bet that before the animus kicked me out, I had the lowest sync rate you've ever seen."

"Well I wasn't going to mention it," Rebecca says, and smiles. "I didn't want to rub it in or hurt your feelings or anything."

"My feelings aren't hurt at all," says Desmond, and when she turns away, he makes a face at Altair.

"He's not even my ancestor," Altair complains.

'Lowest ever?' Desmond mouths at him.

"I'll give everything a quick look anyway," Rebecca says. She leaves, but before she's been gone thirty seconds, Lucy takes her place.

"I heard you were up?" she asks.

"Yea."

"Good," says Lucy. "Right, good..."

She seems distracted, so he asks, "Are you feeling okay?"

"Just tired," says Lucy. "I'm not really used to being on the run after all the time I spent undercover at Abstergo. It's a different kind of stress from before." She tries a tired smile.

"Well if you ever want to talk, or anything-" Desmond offers, and then stops, because he's not really sure what to say. She has a nice smile.

"I know where to find you," Lucy says. "Anyway, I hate to ask, but we're on a short schedule- I heard Lucy say she was only going to do a quick check on the animus. Do you think you'll be up to another session when she's done?"

"Yea," says Desmond. "Sure." He's got some issues to work out with Ezio, after all. He feels bad, in a weird sort of way, for making him wait.

And he does make him wait, or rather Rebecca makes _him_ wait, and then they have a quick dinner, and an hour and forty minutes later he's climbing into the animus, syncing up with Ezio. When the memory loads, he's in the sanctuary, sitting next to Ezio (not sharing a brain, for once- it used to be that he spent about as much time in Ezio's body as outside it. But slowly the balance has been shifting, and he has no idea why; it's like playing a video game where the balance between cutscenes and action keeps changing).

Desmond watches as Ezio opens and closes his mouth several times, then finally shakes his head. "I'll wait, spirit," he says at last. "Maybe I'm just going crazy. But maybe I'm not. And you'll tell me someday."

"Someday," Desmond agrees. Right now, in his own body (ish), he's safe. He knows Ezio won't hear him. "Someday, when nobody's watching." He figures he owes him that much, at least.


	22. Chapter 22

After years of searching, of confusions and misdirection, of loss, and of missing out on the normal life he could have had, this is it. He has both the apple and the staff, and there is nobody left to stop him from reaching... whatever comes next. Ezio has no idea what's waiting for him, but he's never seen anything as strange as the sights from today.

He holds the apple high, and a panel of wall slides open, revealing a tunnel behind it. Without hesitation, Ezio follows it. At the end of the hall, he finds a dim room, barely illuminated by glowing lines on the walls. He glances at them, but then quickly away again. As strange as they are- as strange as all of this is- the most interesting piece of this room is the woman who stands at the opposite end.

She glows softly, bright but not so bright that he can't look at her. And she's not really there- Ezio can see the dim lines of the wall behind her, and he wonders for a second if she could be a being made of light. He doesn't wonder long, though- she starts to talk, and very quickly his awe and curiosity gives way to annoyance. He's come this far, and now he finds that she has no interest in him, only cryptic warning and stories that don't make sense. When he tries to ask questions, the woman (she calls herself Minerva) turns an angry look on him, and says, "I do not wish to speak to you, but through you."

"What-"

"You anchor him, but please, be silent!"

That kind of makes him angry. He's spent years searching out codex pages to find this place, the apple wasn't easy to find either, and getting past Rodrigo-

He's all ready to argue, but Minerva doesn't give him a chance to say so much as a word. It's sort of a let down, because it's not like anything she's saying makes sense anyway. He can follow parts of it, but the more she goes on, the more confused he gets- she wasn't lying when she said her words were meant for someone other than him.

She finishes- finally. Whatever else this woman is, she's definitely long winded. By the end of her speech, Ezio's shifting his weight restlessly, hoping she'll stop long enough for him to ask questions. She doesn't, of course. When she finishes, she merely lets out a deep sigh and says- "It is finished. The rest is up to you, Desmond."

She's not even looking at him- her eyes are fixed on a point behind him and a little to the left, but when Ezio turns around, there's nobody there. "Desmond?" he repeats. "Who is Desmond?"

There's no answer from Minerva, and when Ezio turns back to her, she's gone. "Of course," Ezio mutters. He feels sort of deflated. He's seen more in the last few minutes than he could ever have imagined when he was young, before all this started, and now- all he wants now is to get home, and pick up the pieces of a life he's ignored for far too long. He's heard secrets man was never meant to know, and it turns out they make less sense than an old man's drunken ramblings.

Rodrigo is gone when Ezio comes back to the place where he left the apple and the staff. Of course he is, because it's just _that _kind of a day. He draws near them and suddenly hesitates. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see a man, strangely dressed, watching him closely. But when Ezio turns toward him, but the man only seems to be there when Ezio isn't quite looking at him. It's strange, but-

"Ezio!" A voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see his uncle standing above him.

Of course. Time to go home. When he glances back one last time, the stranger has vanished.


	23. Chapter 23

When Desmond comes out of the animus, he's already in a bad mood. Minerva's news has him worried, he feels bad about not taking advantage of literally the best chance he'll ever have to tell Ezio what's going on, and-

"Come on, Desmond," Lucy says, practically dragging him out of the animus. "We need to get out of here. Now."

"What?" he looks around- Shaun and Rebecca are already hurrying around, packing up computers and supplies. Altair stands on the other side of the room, looking unusually fidgety. He looks like he would rather be helping, if not for his current intangibility.

"The templars are coming," Lucy says, at the exact same moment as something thuds loudly downstairs. "And they're here."

"Abstergo tracked us?" Desmond asks. He feels like he's missed something he while he was in the animus, and glances over at Altair- his ancestor only shrugs, and Desmond realizes that of course Altair won't have any better an idea of what's going on than Desmond does, because he would have been in Masyaf until he got pulled out of the animus.

"They must have," Lucy says. "But I don't know how. Come on. Time to find out how good of a teacher Ezio is."

She leads the way downstairs, Desmond following half a second behind. He feels almost sick- he's done plenty of fighting in the animus but exactly none in his own body. Not counting the original escape from Abstergo, but that had technically been Altair. It isn't really the same.

He hears the guards before he sees them, because they're not even trying to stay quiet. They wear heavy boots that he can hear from the second floor, and their voices echo off the walls in the cavernous storage area. It's like they're not even trying to stay quiet. There's something not quite right about it, but Desmond doesn't have time to figure it out now. He finally sees one, a big guy with a gun pulled on Lucy. He hasn't seen Desmond yet, and a few seconds later Desmond manages to get behind him, and make sure he never will.

It turns out Ezio is a very good teacher.

It's not quite the same, fighting in the real world as in the animus. His brain knows what to do, but his body's been sitting in the animus for two weeks straight, and it reacts more slowly than Desmond's used to.

It's still not enough to save the guards, though. Maybe if Abstergo had sent someone that knew what they were doing it would be different. He decides to count himself lucky.

And he decides he's luckier still when the entire group is rolling out of the hideout in a van, along with all their most important equipment. He hopes it's everything important, anyway, because they're less than three blocks from the building when he hears a dull boom. A minute or so later, a firetruck screams past them, headed back the way they came.

"And that's the end of that place," Lucy sighs. "We're running out of safe places."

"I'm sorry," Desmond says.

"Don't be," says Lucy. "They're the ones that found us."

"They wouldn't have bothered if I wasn't there," says Desmond.

"Yea, they would have," Shaun calls from the front seat. "They're templars, we're assassins- have you been paying any attention at all?"

"He's right," Lucy says. "And I don't think they're too happy with me right now, either."

Desmond shrugs. He can't really help but feel like this is all his fault, somehow. "What happens next?" he asks.

"We need to find somewhere new to hide until we can get out of the country," Lucy says. "And you need to get back in the animus."

"How come?" Desmond asks. "I thought I did okay with those guards back there. Wasn't that the whole point of sticking me in the animus in the first place?"

"It was until that last memory," Lucy says. "The precursors are actually trying to talk to you through Ezio, Desmond." She leans forward in her seat a little, so close to him their faces are almost touching. It's hard not to see the excitement in her eyes. "This could be exactly what we need, and you can't just pull out now."

He can't bring himself to argue with her. He's too tired, and he's not even sure he wants to. "Alright," he grumbles. "Back into the animus, I guess."

"Great," Lucy says. "I should warn you, though, this isn't exactly a routine session- we can't set up all the equipment in the back of the van, so we won't be able to actually see anything you're experiencing in there. If anything important does happen, you need to stop right away so we can look at the memories sometime when we're more settled."

"Fine," Desmond says. Better than fine, really. This could be exactly the chance he needs to talk to Ezio without anyone listening in- after the Minerva incident, he can't keep his ancestor in the dark anymore. "But, ah-" over Lucy's shoulder, Altair's giving him a 'we need to talk' look. "I need a break first."

"Desmond-"

"Just five minutes," he says. "Then I'll get right in. Promise."

She sighs, but nods and turns her attention to the front of the van. Rebecca and Shaun are already arguing over which road to take and where they might be safe. Lucy quickly joins in. So no one hears Desmond when he looks over at Altair and asks, as quietly as he can, "What's the matte?"

"It was too easy," Altair says. "That whole attack- it felt staged."

"What?"

"Think about it," Altair snaps. "They might not know what you've learned from Ezio, but they have the records of everything you did in my memories. They know you have that map of all the apple locations, and if the apples are as important to their plans as Lucy says, they're not going to let you go easily."

Desmond wants to argue that their escape wasn't exactly easy, but then he remembers thinking how easily he could hear the men as he came downstairs, remembers thinking that they _wanted _to be heard. "It was a test," he breathes.

Altair nods. "They didn't want you back," he says. "They wanted to know how much you've learned."

Which sort of makes sense. But Altair was right about Desmond having information the templars want, too. There's no reason they couldn't have tested him and still managed to steal him back from the assassins. Unless...

"One of them must be a templar," he says, in a voice so quiet he's surprised Altair can even hear it. "We're not escaping at all. Abstergo has us exactly where they want us."

"Damn." Altair says, and closes his eyes. "I should have thought of that." Desmond stares at him- he can't remember hearing his ancestor ever swear before. And that, more than anything else, tells him just how much trouble they're in.

"Ready to go back in now?" Lucy asks, and Desmond jumps a little. He looks her over, but it doesn't seem like she heard any of what he said.

"Yea," he says. "Sure."

As he sits back down in the animus, he takes one last look at the three assassins at the front of the truck. One of them is a templar, and he has no idea which. Or maybe it's two of them. Or three. He glances back at Altair, who's studying all three with a golden eyed stare that Desmond recognizes as eagle vision. Desmond quickly follows his example, but sees only blue. He wonders if he's too blinded by his own opinions of them all to see the truth.

"Ready?" Lucy asks again, and Desmond realizes he's just sitting there, staring.

"Sorry," he says, and blinks the eagles away. "Let's go see Ezio."


	24. Chapter 24

"Altair?"

"Malik." He's sitting at his desk, head buried in his hands, in relative privacy. Relative, because he knows perfectly well that Malik's going to let himself in whenever he wants, and never mind what Altair has to say about it.

"You look terrible," Malik says. "Do you even know how long you've been in here?"

"I lost track," says Altair. It's surprisingly easy to do when time stops running in a straight line. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to ask you why no one's seen you in a week," Malik says. "I'd started to think you decided to abandon us for the future."

"If you know it's been a week, why did you ask?" Altair snaps.

Malik doesn't answer. For nearly a full minute he says nothing, but he doesn't leave, either. Finally, Altair looks up. Malik's still standing there, in the door, an absolutely unreadable expression on his face. "You need a break," he says at last.

"I don't have time for one," he says. "You know how much I have to take care of here. And it's no better-" he jerks his head in a random direction to indicate the future. "Over there."

"Everyone has problems," Malik says. "Yours are just a little..." his eyes wander down to Altair's hands, where dim golden lines have started to appear. "Different. It doesn't matter. I'm telling you that you need rest."

"No," says Altair. He looks down at his hands. "I don't have time."

"Fine," Malik says, and crosses the room. "Let me help. Two people working on a problem, we solve it in less time. What can I do?"

"I don't know," Altair admits. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do here. But I think I'm going to get it wrong."

"So?" Malik snorts. "No one's perfect, Altair. Especially not you. And if you need me to remind you of that every once and a while, I will be more than happy to do that. You don't have to get everything right the first time."

"You don't understand," Altair says. "I need to get this right, because someday-" He hesitates, but manages to keep going. "Because someday, there's going to be a young assassin with no family and nothing to live for but revenge. And he's going to look up to me and before you say anything-" Malik's mouth is already opening. "Yes, I know I'm not some kind of hero but that's what time does. A few hundred years ago all of us will be nothing but dust and legend. But people believe those legends."

"Are you talking about Desmond?" Malik asks.

"Another assassin," says Altair. "Ezio."

"Who?" Malik shakes his head. "Altair, I'm going to help you. But I'm starting to feel like I'm a little behind on the story." He glares. "Maybe if you'd talked to me- or to anyone- in the past few weeks-"

"Fine," Altair says. "I'm sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Yes." Malik smiles. "Now tell me your story. Your legend."

"You're not going to let me forget that one, are you?"

"Not for a while."

So Altair tells him the story.


	25. Chapter 25

Ezio's having a very good night when the spirit comes back. But then, Caterina Sforza always makes for a very good night. And he's right in the middle of a very good night when he suddenly feels the spirit again, doing something that feels like it's throwing up its hands and walking away.

He sits straight up in bed, brain scrambling for an explanation, panting slightly.

"Ezio, are you alright?"

The spirit in his head is kicking up a fuss, and Ezio feels suddenly tired and frustrated and he knows that neither of those feelings are his, but he can't stop them from coming through anyway. "No," he says. "My head-" he stops, dropping his head into his hands.

Caterina sits up as well, and says, "If you're not well, I can come back later." Her voice is cool, very different from a few moments earlier. He sighs, because he really doesn't like turning her away, but right now he doesn't have a choice. "Fine," Caterina says.

"Caterina-"

"No, really." Caterina says. She stands in his doorways, barely dressed but with an expression of coldness on her face that manages to take all the pleasure out of the sight. "I understand," she says, in a tone that says she doesn't.

So then he's alone, just him and the spirit in the ruins of a very good night that has suddenly gone sour. "What are you doing here, spirit?" Ezio asks. "And why now?" He can hear as he says it that the second question came out a lot less forcefully than he wanted it to. It sounds whiny in his own ears. Not that it matters. The spirit's never answered him before, and he doesn't expect it to say anything now. It's probably not even listening. Of course, the spirit's never been this obvious before, either.

_"Sorry. I don't have a lot of time here."_

"What?" Ezio demands. It's the first thing he can think of to say, because nothing like this has ever happened before. "You've been here how long and you've never said anything before-"

_"That's not actually true," _the spirit interrupts. _"The day of... of the hangings."_

"That was you inside my head that day," Ezio says. "You've been here that long, and you've never said anything? I thought I was going crazy." He suddenly remembers the day in the sanctuary. "And you were the one one that called me an idiot?"

_"Hey, that time it wasn't me."_

"So there's someone else inside my head?" Ezio asks.

_"...it's complicated."_

"Well-"

_"And you might want o keep your voice down. You don't even need to talk at all. I'm inside your head. I can hear what you're thinking."_

"That-" Ezio swallows down the rest of the sentence. _"That's the craziest thing I've ever heard. And I've heard some crazy things lately."_

_"I know." _The spirit sounds tired. _"I was there for that too."_

_"Oh." _Ezio hesitates, because he's not really sure how he feels about asking the voice in his head for help. Then he decides that if he's already crazy, this isn't going to make much difference. _"Do you maybe have any idea what she was talking about?"_

_"A little," _says the spirit. _"I can definitely explain one thing."_

_"What's that?" _Ezio asks.

_"I'm Desmond," _says the spirit.

_"You're the one she- Minerva-"_

_"Yea,"_ the spirit- Desmond- says.

_"...I think you probably need to explain some things now."_

**_-/-_**

**I'm just going to take this space to apologize for putting out a chapter that should have been great and somehow managing to make it boring. Also to thank all you guys for inexplicably staying with this weird little story.**


	26. Chapter 26

_"Huh," _Ezio says when the story is over. Desmond waits for him to say more, but he doesn't.

_"So-"_

_"Yea."_

If Desmond had been in a body of his own, he would have been fidgeting at this point. Or pacing. It didn't feel right to just sit there and wait for Ezio to decide how he was going to react. Normally Ezio would have been on his feet as well- Desmond can feel the twitchiness in the back of his mind, but he knows Ezio doesn't quite feel comfortable with sharing a body yet. He doesn't know how to act yet, but he'll get over it. _"Do you want to say something, maybe?" _Desmond asks.

_"Sorry," _says Ezio. _"I was just thinking that I expected to spend the night with a beautiful and talented woman, and instead I end up having a conversation like this."_

It could have sounded angry, but Ezio's laughing. _"You're not a woman, are you?"_

_"No!" _he protests.

_"That's disappointing," _Ezio says. Or tries to say. Even if it's all in his head, he's having trouble getting the words out. And maybe it's catching, because Desmond can't quite stop himself from laughing as well. It's a funny feeling, two people laughing inside the same head. It's never happened with Altair before. The Syrian doesn't laugh much.

_"What were you going to do even if I was a woman?" _he manages to say at last. _"We only have one body between us."_

_"I'd think of something."_

It was going about as well as Desmond could have hoped for. Considering that he and Altair had met right after Abstergo security nearly killed him definitely helped put this encounter into perspective. And Ezio hasn't gone crazy, which is good. And while Desmond can definitely feel him itching to bug Desmond about his idol, Altair, but so far he's restrained himself. All he's really done is make dirty joke, and Desmond can cope with that. Last month, he was a bartender in New York.

_"So what happens now?" _Ezio asks.

_"No idea."_

_"Aren't you supposed to be from the future?"_

_"Well, yea," _saysDesmond_. "But nobody ever tells me anything. I guess just... keep doing normal stuff? Oh, and, um- be careful around the apple, because I really don't need you and Altair both stuck in my head at the same time."_

_"So," _Ezio says, and Desmond almost laughs again because he's trying so hard to be casual. _"About Altair-"_

And that's when the cannonball comes crashing through the wall.

Up until that exact moment, Ezio's been sitting on the bed, abruptly self conscious of the extra person in his brain, but now he doesn't hesitate for a second as he reacts, jumping off the bed just in time, instincts breaking through to save him. And then there's no more time for questions or jokes, because the villa is under attack.

Ezio runs, and Desmond runs with him. It's different, and that surprises him. All this time he's been working against Ezio, hiding himself, holding back. Now they work together, both of them in absolute unison. And they run faster, fight harder, than they ever have before. For a moment, even amid the chaos and destruction, it feels perfect. Desmond knows exactly what Ezio's planning as soon as his ancestor decides. He's been in the animus too long not to know, and so when they move, they move together. For a while, they're powerful.

And then, suddenly- it's not enough. Because as Cesare Borgia stands in the villa's gates and swears to bring blood and fire down on them, they're too far away. They can't get there in time. And he has the apple-

They can only watch as Mario Auditore falls down dead.

They're on the ground, somehow. They've fallen, and there are new injuries that aren't going to heal quickly, if they get the chance to heal it all.

_"Come on," _Desmond says. _"You need to get out of here."_

_"I know," _says Ezio. But he glances over his shoulder anyway as they run. Desmond doesn't say anything. They both know this will probably be the last time they will ever see the villa.

And then Desmond is abruptly pulled from the animus. He comes out shaking, adrenaline running through his body to match the panic in his mind. Lucy's standing there, hands on her hips. "So, when you promised to say something if anything exciting happened-"

"Oh." He sits up, tries to breathe slowly. "Right. What did you see?"

"Nothing," says Lucy. "I told you, we don't have any of the monitoring equipment set up in here. That's why you were supposed to come up for air if anything happened."

"Well, uh-" he shrugs. "Cesare Borgia has the apple, but unless you want to hear about what Ezio and Caterina Sforza got up to-"

"Not really, no," Lucy says. "Next time you promise you'll say something?"

"Yea," Desmond says. He's still reeling from everything that's just happened, five hundred years ago, but he offers a smile anyway, hoping it looks genuine. "Forgive me?"

She hesitates, then smiles back.

"If you two will stop flirting, back there," Shaun calls from the front of the truck. "We're here."

"...where's here?" Desmond asks, glancing between Lucy and Shaun. He feels abruptly nervous about not knowing where they're headed. In all the excitement of the animus, he's almost forgotten that one of them is a traitor. Now he remembers, and wonders what- or who- will be waiting outside.

Shaun doesn't answer, but Altiar, still pressed up against a corner of the cramped van, does. "You're not going to like it much," he says. "It's not the templars."

"What is it?" he asks, and then realizes Lucy's looking at him. "I mean- where. Where is it? Where are we?"

"It's just time," Altair says. "Five hundred years later-"

"Monteriggioni," says Lucy.


	27. Chapter 27

Ezio feels it the second Desmond leaves. It's strange, the way he's adjusted so quickly to having someone else share his mind. But it's like losing his balance. Ezio stumbles a little, almost knocking over Claudia, who walks next to him as they head to the tunnel in the sanctuary.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine, yea." Ezio says. "Just a little..."

She nods and gives him a look. "I understand," she says. But she doesn't- or not completely. Because she's losing her home too, but Ezio's world is still shaking from Desmond's sudden arrival. "But the people here are counting on you to lead them out."

"I know," Ezio says, and tries not to limp as he hurries into the tunnel. He glances at the statue of Altair as he hurries past. As he runs away. _What would you say? _He wonders, and then realizes that maybe someday he can ask him. Or at least ask Desmond to pass the message along. It's a strange world he suddenly finds himself in.

They're maybe halfway through the tunnel, crossing a half fallen apart bridge over a stagnant pool of water that smells like something dead. Most of the villa's people are ahead of him, still alive, which is saying something. And then Ezio hears someone fall into the water below him.

He glances down, ready to jump in after whoever's fallen in- and nearly topples over the edge of the bridge himself. There are two figures below him, only halfway visible. One, a woman, stands at the edge of the water, laughing at the man who's just fallen in. They're ghostly and strange and he knows immediately that he needs to find out more.

"Ezio?" Claudia asks.

"Go on ahead of me," Ezio says, not taking his eyes off the scene below him. There were templars earlier, but he's taken care of them. They'll be alright. "I need to see something."

"Ezio!"

He climbs downward, halfway regretting it already as his injuries throb.

"_Why don't you get to take a swim?_" the man calls, in English. His voice echoes in the cavern, making it hard to hear, not that Ezio knows the language anyway.

_"Because I have you here,"_ the woman says. She uses the same language, so Ezio doesn't know the words, but he can tell by her tone that she's teasing..

_"Right."_ The man clambers out of the water just as Ezio reaches the bottom. There's less than five feet between the two of them, and for a second they stare at each other. Ezio stays tense, not quite sure what to make of this ghost.

_"What are you looking at?"_ the woman calls.

_"Um..." _the man glances at the woman, then back at Ezio. _"Nothing."_

_"Come on, then," _the woman calls, and as he turns back toward her, they both fade away. Ezio's left with a nagging feeling that he knows the voice. He doesn't think he's ever seen the face, but he's heard the voice, less echoy, less... English. Recently.

It's a problem, but not one for right now.

Much later, he makes the connection, and almost slaps himself for not recognizing Desmond earlier. But then again, it's not like he's ever seen his face.

**-/-**

**This chapter is brought to you by the letter F. F for fire alarms. And freezing outside. I think you can guess how my day's going so far.**


	28. Chapter 28

Desmond sits on the floor of the sanctuary, trying not to see the newly unpacked equipment. He's tired, and it's late, but he's not quite ready to sleep yet. He's still thinking the day over- the attack on their hideout. Realizing that at least one of the people he's spent the past week with is a traitor. Revealing himself to Ezio. The attack on Monteriggioni. Running into Ezio in the tunnels under the villa.

"I really hoped the statue would be gone," Altair says from next to him.

Rebecca and Shaun are both asleep, but Lucy's hunched over her computer nearby, so Desmond can only shrug.

"We need to talk," Altair says. "About what happened this morning."

Desmond nods. About what happened in the animus, too, because Altair doesn't even know yet. But they have to be even more careful than they have been up until now- it's not just that the others might decide Desmond's going crazy. One or more of them is working for Abstergo, and the last thing he needs is for the templars to find out about Altair.

He gets up and calls to Lucy- "I'm going out for a while."

"That's probably not too good of an idea..." Lucy says. "We barely managed to lose Abstergo."

"They're not going to look here," Desmond says. Not unless someone tells them, anyway. "It doesn't look like anyone's even been in here since Ezio left."

"I just don't know if it's a good idea," Lucy says.

"I'll only be a little while," Desmond says. "I just think I'm going to lose it if I'm stuck inside all the time."

She looks up sharply. "Lose it?" she repeats. "Desmond, if you're not feeling well-"

"I'm not bleeding," Desmond says. Shit. "Sorry. It's just cabin fever. That's all. I'm not used to being stuck underground all the time."

"Fine," Lucy says. "But... you'll tell me, right? If anything does start to happen? Because no one's ever used the animus this long without..."

"I promise," Desmond says. Behind him, Altair makes an impatient noise. "If I start seeing things, you'll be the first one I tell." It's hard to look at her as he says it. He knows he's lying, but he doesn't have a lot of choice. Maybe if he figures out who the traitor is. Maybe then he'll tell her.

"Alright," Lucy says. "But take a earpiece, okay?"

"Yea," Desmond says.

"And be back before the sun's up!" she calls.

Already halfway up the stairs, Desmond tosses a "Yes, mom!" back over his shoulder at her. Then he puts the earpiece in his pocket, and doesn't look back again.

Altair's waiting at the top of the stairs, somehow looking even more out of place than he usually does. In their earlier headquarters, Altair looked a little unlikely, but the mostly empty building had never been home. Altair shouldn't have been there, but then, Desmond probably shouldn't have been there either. And this is Ezio's home. Coming here, it feels like Ezio, like being in the animus, inside Ezio's head.

"So," Desmond says, and lets out a long sigh. "Where do we even start with today?"

"With the traitor," says Altair. "Or taitors."

"Right," says Desmond. He doesn't look at Altair, because he can't keep his eyes off the streets below. It's surreal, the way everything looks so different. It's like coming home after a long trip and finding out someone's moved all the furniture around.

"Focus," Altair snaps, and Desmond looks back at him. He starts to make a comment, but Altair's face makes him stop.

"This isn't the same," he says instead. "Whoever the traitor is, it's not going to be like Al Mualim."

"It's exactly the same," says Altair. "It's a betrayal, Desmond. And if they're working for Abstergo, then we're going to stop them. Before they end the world."

Desmond sighs. Both of them sit there for a while, before Desmond asks, "So who do you think it is?"

"Right now, I'm assuming all three of them," says Altair.

"I don't think so," says Desmond. "If they're all Abstergo, why aren't we still in their building? They had me under control. They didn't know about you."

"I'm not saying I think all of them are templars," says Altair. "But you can't let your guard down around any of them. Not until we know for sure."

"Obviously," says Desmond. "But how do we find out?"

"Keep your eyes open," says Altair. "Don't trust any of them."

"That's what you wanted to talk about so urgently?" Desmond asks.

"No," Altair says. "I wanted to hear what you need to tell me. You're lucky no one bothers learning to read body language, because you've got something you want to say."

So Desmond tells him all about Ezio, what happened in the animus and then running into him in the tunnels.

"I know," Altair says. "About the tunnels, anyway. I saw him too."

"That's a relief, actually," Desmond sighs. "I thought maybe I've started actually hallucinating things."

"Maybe we both are," says Altair. "I've been in the animus too."

"Yea, once," says Desmond.

"But I've been in your head a lot more than once."

"...you're really not helping," Desmond says. "The point is, he can't have actually been here. He doesn't even have the apple-"

"And we know the apple's not the only way for you to see him," Altair interrupts. "It's how I'm here, but when you're in my head, or Ezio's, it's the animus causing it. There could be a third thing too. Or more than three. Or maybe it's just an aftereffect of meeting Minerva in Rome."

"This is confusing," Desmond says. "Do you think we'll be seeing him again?"

"I don't know," Altair says. "I hope not. It's getting a little crowded in your head."

**-/-**

**...this chapter is pretty much just me wandering around in my head and trying to figure out how time travel works, then deciding I don't know and neither do any of the characters, so who cares. Bleh.**


	29. Chapter 29

Ezio spends a lot of time searching out the apple over the next couple of years. Sometimes he has people with him, and sometimes he's alone. Sometimes Desmond shows up in his head or by his side, and those days are unusually fun, because there's no point hiding from the man in his head. To everyone else, he needs to be an example. But with Desmond, he can be a little more himself and a little less just someone's mentor.

It's not always easy to share his head with someone else. Sometimes they argue- like on the day Ezio they finally have the information they need to go after the apple.

_"I think I've spent most of my life tracking this thing," _Ezio complains to Desmond.

_"Yep," _Desmond says. His voice is distracted inside Ezio's head, and the older assassin frowns.

_"What's the matter?"_

_"I'm worried about the apple," _Desmond says._ "Getting it back is-" he hesitates. "I mean, it's good, obviously. It would be worse if it stayed in templar hands. But the last apple caused a lot of trouble. Nobody understands what it does, or how, or why."_

_"It's been sitting around for a couple years and nothing's gone wrong yet," _Ezio points out.

_"Maybe because it wasn't around the right DNA," _says Desmond.

_"Don't be so worried about it," _Ezio says. He's nearly twenty years older than Desmond, but there are times when he feels like the less mature one. Or at least the one less prone to worrying. In his time as an assassin, Ezio has learned that there's a time for making plans, and a time when the only choice is to go in hoping for the best. So while he understands that the apple holds more mysteries than answers, he can live with not knowing.

And he's proved right. Sort of. Over the next four years, plenty of things go wrong- Cesare Borgia flees Rome, and Ezio doesn't manage to track him down to Spain until 1507. But the apple causes no problems, and does nothing more than what is asked of it. Gradually, both Ezio and Desmond relax. In 1506, Ezio hides it away, in a place he hopes the templars will never find.

Desmond isn't there to see it, which Ezio decides is strange, because he's gotten used to Desmond's near constant presence for most of the important things in his life. It's almost gotten to the point that he can guess when something big is about to happen, because Desmond usually isn't there for the small things in his life. And that goes doubly for anything connected to the apple. When he asks about it later, Desmond says their sync rate isn't high enough- Ezio puts on his normal act of pretending to understand what Desmond's talking about when future technology comes up, and doesn't mention it again.

With the apple hidden away, and Rome recovered from templar control, Ezio starts to think about where he's going next- it's not in his nature to stay still for long, and he's growing restless. Desmond hasn't been around for a while, and Ezio starts to worry that he's run out of memories important enough for Desmond to visit. He knows the twenty first century assassins are facing something important, and that they're working against a tight time limit. He knows that there are probably more important things on Desmond's mind than visiting. It still feels strange to be on his own after all this time, though.

**-/-**

**I figured I should probably say something about why I'm skipping over most of the main plot of the games in this story. I probably should have said something earlier, but hey, better late than never. So basically there's two reasons- first, I'm too lazy to actually look up what happens in all the sequences, and second, because the thing that makes this fun to write for me is the juxtaposition of the modern world and the older assassins, and almost all of the modern day bits between the end of AC (where this story picks up) and the end of AC:B (where we are now) have been clustered at the beginnings and ends of the games. This may or may not change as the story goes on, because AC:R has no modern bits at all, just animus island while Desmond's in a coma, AC3 has modern bits at random in the middle, and ACIV has no Desmond at all. **

**TL;DR: modern day stuff is cooler than old stuff, I like having an excuse to use the word juxtaposition in a sentence**


	30. Chapter 30

_"We've got it,"_ Desmond says. _"The Colosseum." _

Altair blinks and looks around- for some reason, it's always more disorienting to come back to the future and find that he's not in Desmond's body. It probably helps that Desmond's brain can translate what everyone around him is saying, while at times like this, Altair is stuck with guessing from body language and tone of voice.

Right now, for example, everyone's excited. Whatever memories Desmond's been through in the animus, they must have been important- Lucy, Rebecca, and Shaun are all moving, suddenly energetic after weeks mostly spent underground. Only Desmond looks worried. Altair looks over at Rebecca's computer, which- as always- is replaying the last few minutes of animus footage. He sees Ezio hiding the apple, and understands. They know where it is now, and that means they're very quickly running out of time to find the traitor before he or she or they contacts Abstergo.

There's an argument going on between the other three- Altair ignores it, looking instead at Desmond, who's still sitting on the animus, looking worried. Eventually, the four split up to dig through notes and animus data, and Desmond leads Altair up the stairs from the sanctuary. On the landing they stand and talk in low voices.

"You know where the apple is," Altair says.

"Under the Colosseum," Desmond says. "There's a password on the door, though, and we need to figure that out before we can get inside and find the apple."

"And the traitor?" Altair asks.

"I still have no idea," says Desmond. "It could be any of them. Or all of them. I don't know." he kicks at the wall. "Ezio always talks about how sometimes you just have to go in and hope for the best. Maybe this is just one of those times. We find the password, get to the Colosseum, and see what happens."

Altair hesitates- in Masyaf, novices are trained to prepare as much as they possibly can before going after a target. Know the area. Know what the target is likely to do. Know where the guards are. He's spent weeks learning an area before going after a single target, and he doesn't like the idea of running in blind now. Especially with something like the apple at risk. But it doesn't look like they have any choice. "Fine," he says. "So what's the password?"

"No idea," Desmond says. "I didn't get to that memory, and the power's out. So that means..." he trails off suddenly, staring at the wall behind Altair. "No animus..."

Altair turns, but the only thing there is a strangely drawn triangle- in eagle vision he can see a few numbers as well, but they don't tell him anything. "What's the matter?"

"The same drawing was on the door of the place Ezio left the apple," Desmond explains. "I'm going to get everyone else."

And somehow it turns out that the triangles are exactly what they need to figure out the password to open the door, and barely half an hour later, all five of them are on their way to Rome. All the way there, Altair stays tense, alert for any sign that the traitor is ready to make a move. But nothing happens. Not on the way to the Colosseum, and not as they climb down, out of the reach of modern construction equipment and into an area that Desmond says looks like what he's seen in the animus. There are a few strange moments- a woman made of light appears for a minute to share a warning, or a prophecy, or something- Altair can understand the words, but he doesn't have the context to know what they mean.

"Was that Minerva?" he asks Desmond.

"No." He shakes his head. "It looked like someone different."

So on they go, until they finally meet back up with the other three in a church aboveground. Still, no signs of betrayal. Even when they find the way out, through the church and into a room that looks nothing like Altair has ever seen before, nothing happens. For the first time, Altair starts to feel doubt- this has to be where the apple is hidden. If the traitor was going to do something, they should have already done it.

They go through a door- the password that caused so much trouble earlier is finally used- and on the other side is an elaborate obstacle course guarding the apple. It sits in the middle of the room, shining with golden light. Altair can feel the apple inside him react, coming awake in response to the other one's presence. It feels hungry, and his skin crawls a little.

As Desmond progresses farther into the room, the same woman of light appears from nowhere. Her words still make no sense, but now there's a new mystery as well- although both Altair and Desmond can see and hear her, none of the others can.

And then at last, they reach the apple.

_"So where are the temples?"_ Shaun asks, and Altair glances over at him. There's nothing but curiosity in his voice or on his face.

_"Do you think I should ask it?"_ Desmond says, and the look he gives the apple is one of immense distrust. Altair doesn't need to be inside his head to know that Desmond wants nothing to do with the thing.

_"Or... think it, or something,"_ Lucy says. They draw slowly closer, Desmond at the front, Altair lagging behind. He feels almost sick, his skin reacting to the apple in front of him.

Before Desmond can even touch the new apple, it erupts into light, and so does Altair, the familiar lines of light bursting open across his skin. It's brighter than it ever has been before, and almost painful. He grits his teeth and tries not to think about it- the light will fade eventually.

"Are you sure you asked it the right thing?" Lucy asks, and it takes Altair a second to realize that he understands her. The apple, suddenly awakened, is translating for him. Just another power he hasn't known it possesses.

And then several things happen at once. Altair sees Desmond reach out and take the apple, and he steps forward, concerned. As he does so, he brushes past Rebecca, and she actually feels him. Almost in slow motion, he watches her turn, sees the shock on her face as their eyes meet. She can actually see him there, and for some reason the first, nonsensical thought in his head is that he probably looks ridiculous right now, with the apple glowing inside him.

And then- all in the same second- Altair feels everything shift around him. It's not quite a physical sensation, more like a sense that everything has changed, and everything is wrong. He looks away from Rebecca, towards Desmond and the apple, and he swears. Because everything _has _changed, and everything _is _wrong. For a second, he sees Desmond, with the apple in one hand, his hidden blade buried in Lucy's stomach. And behind them, the woman made of light, who isn't looking at Desmond or Lucy but at him, and she looks not only shocked but angry. Her face is twisted into a mask of hatred, making her face seem completely inhuman.

And then the moment is over- the woman vanishes, and Desmond and Lucy fall to the ground, still held together by his blade.

Altair pushes past Rebecca and Shaun, and crouches down between Desmond and Lucy. It doesn't take more than a quick glance to see that Lucy is gone, but Desmond is awake. Just barely. "She was the traitor," Desmond whispers, and Altair is alarmed by how weak his voice sounds.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"I..." He's drifting, and Altair can see that it takes effort to get the words out. "Yea. The apple told me."

Altair growls, a noise of frustration. They shouldn't have taken so long to figure this out, they should never have come to the Colosseum without a plan- he looks back down at Desmond, and sees that his eyes are closed, and his breathing is shallow.

"Are they..." he glances up and sees Rebecca and Shaun, both looking like they've seen a ghost.

"Desmond's alive," he says, when Rebecca doesn't quite manage to finish the sentence. His voice sounds strange to his own ears- the apple's still translating, but it tells him meanings. The actual words coming from his own mouth are strange to him. "Lucy's dead. And a templar."

"What is going on?" Shaun demands.

"There's no time for that," says Altair. He picks up the apple, and sees that the light is already fading, feels the apple inside him dimming in response. He hands the apple to Rebecca, who takes it hesitantly. In her grasp, it does nothing. "Don't lose that," he says, and then points to Desmond. "And don't let him die."

"Of course not," says Rebecca.

"Good," says Altair. "Then get out of here. The templars will be on their way soon." He doesn't know if this is true or not- maybe Lucy called them before she died, and maybe she didn't. But either way, he knows it's better to hurry.

"What about you?" Rebecca asks.

Altair can tell by the way her eyes won't quite focus on him that he's starting to fade. "I was never here," he says.

"But-"

Altair never hears the end of that sentence. As if his words are prophecy, the room around him vanishes, and more abruptly than it's ever happened before, he finds himself back in Masyaf.

**-/-**

**Aaaaand here's a nice long chapter (I think it might be the longest of this story so far?). I feel like I should say something here, because I really liked writing this one, but I can't think of anything, so I guess I'll just say thanks for all the reviews, and the favs, and the alerts, and even the people that just read and don't do anything. You guys are all awesome.**


	31. Chapter 31

"You really screwed things up, didn't you?"

Desmond wakes to a pounding headache and a stranger's voice. He sits up slowly, cradling his head and trying to figure out where he is- it looks like an island, but the colors are all wrong, and nothing around him looks quite real. It all feels too... built. Like someone's placed every stone on the ground instead of letting them fall naturally.

The only other person Desmond can see is a man in a brown jacket, who sits on a rock only a few feet away, looking at him with an expression of awed disbelief on his face. "I mean, I've been waiting for you to show up for ages," the man goes on. Desmond gets the distinct impression that he doesn't really care if Desmond's listening, and that he'd go on talking even if Desmond wasn't there at all. "I thought- everyone goes crazy if they spend enough time in the animus. It's pretty much guaranteed. But I thought you'd just be seeing things and hearing voices."

"Who are you?" Desmond asks.

"Aw." The man's voice takes on an exaggerated tone of disappointment. "Didn't they tell you about me?" he asks. "Didn't mention what happened to the last guy to get stuck in an animus?"

The pounding in Desmond's head is starting to fade, and the stranger's voice actually does sound a little familiar. "Sixteen?" he guesses.

"Close," Sixteen says. He stands up from his rock and offers Desmond a hand up. "My name's Clay."

Desmond takes the hand, and when he's on his feet again, asks, "What did you mean? You said I really screwed something up-"

"Not something," Clay interrupts. "Everything." He's beaming, as though everything falling to pieces is the best thing he can imagine happening. "I don't know what you and your ancestors are actually doing with the apples, but I know it's bad." He throws out his hands, gesturing to the island around them. "Do you know where we are?"

"No idea," Desmond says. He takes a few steps away from Clay when the other man isn't looking, because this is getting weird.

"Inside the animus," says Clay. "Right in the middle, inside the very first test program. You can get to all sorts of memories from here, if you know what you're doing."

"And you do?" Desmond asks.

"Oh yea," says Clay. "Out there, I'm dead. In case they hadn't mentioned that to you."

Lucy- _oh god, Lucy, the traitor, with his blade in her stomach_- had once mentioned Clay killing himself, when he asked about the blood on the walls in his cell at Abstergo.

"But I saved a backup in the animus," Clay goes on. "So, yea. I think I know what I'm doing. And I've spent a lot of time in all sorts of memories since then. It helps me to clean out the crazy and get my brain back in line. I've seen a lot of pieces of Eden in the last few months. Or centuries. Time doesn't really move right when you're in the animus, does it?"

"No," Desmond says, because it's clear he's waiting for an answer.

"And what you three have done- you, and Altair, and Ezio- is completely screwing everything up. Do you even know what you've done?" he asks. Somehow, he's right up in Desmond's face, eyes wild, breathing hard.

"Are you sure you've cleaned out _all _the crazy?" Desmond asks, after a pause that goes on a few seconds too long.

Clay steps back a little, and shrugs. "Maybe," he says. "Maybe I just can't tell anymore. Or maybe it's more fun this way. It's not like anyone's usually around to say anything." He says this last bit with a pointed look. "Besides, you have more important things than my head to worry about."

"Right," Desmond sighs. "The apple. You keep saying."

"You've manged to rewrite time," Clay says, almost laughing. "You know your ancestors shouldn't even know it when you're in their memories. Mine never do. Or maybe they're just ignoring me." He pauses, thinking this over. Then he shakes his head. "No, that would be rude. Besides, you have something the rest of us subjects never had."

"The apple," Desmond says.

"Exactly," says Clay. "Did you know the animus was originally based on first civilization technology?"

"No," says Desmond.

"It is,' says Clay. "The same as the apple. Sort of. They never got it quite right. But the technology in the animus was never meant to mix with the apples. And then you three come along, and suddenly everything goes crazy, time's inside out and upside down, and- here's the best bit. You know how the bleeding effect is supposed to work, right? You get the memories and the skills of your ancestors, but you get hallucinations and voices in your head, too. You lose track of who you are and who they are."

"That never happened to me," Desmond says. He's got languages and skills from Altair and Ezio, but he knows he's not crazy. Well, he's starting to wonder about right now. But he definitely _wasn't _crazy before.

"I know," says Clay. "That's the whole point! You get all the good stuff, but none of the bad. Don't you want to know why?"

"Why?" Desmond asks.

"Because there _is _no difference between you and your ancestors anymore," Clay says. "You're all the same, three heads and three bodies and three centuries but all the same on the inside, in all the places where it counts. You're not going to go crazy and start thinking you're Ezio, because he's already there, inside your head. You're not going to start seeing visions of Altair, because he's actually there." He laughs. "It's kind of funny, actually."

"There's no way that's right," Desmond says. It can't be, because it's too insane, too big to wrap his head around. "If that were true, Altair and Ezio would be in each other's head. Not just mine."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure that's going to start happening soon," Clay says. His voice is annoyingly cheerful. "So far you've been the wall between them. But now that you're comatose- you can thank the apple for that too, by the way- I'm pretty sure that wall's going to start breaking down. And not just the wall between them, but any other ancestors you ever see in the animus."

"They're the only ones," says Desmond.

"The only ones so far," Clay corrects. "Trust me. There will be more. There's always more."

"What?" Desmond shakes his head. No way he's going into any more ancestors. Not after this. "Never mind. How do you even know all this?"

"I told you," Clay says. "The animus is based on first civ technology. I've been stuck in here for ages with not much else to do. I'm not saying I'm totally right. But I think I'm pretty close."

"Shit," Desmond says, and then again- "Shit," because this the situation deserves it. And there's Clay, still standing there, grinning ear to ear like he's absolutely delighted to see Desmond's head falling apart and time getting ripped to shreds. "Fine," he snaps. "Fine. You seem to have all the answers. You said I'm in a coma. But you also said I'm in the animus."

"They think you're bleeding, out there," Clay says. "So they stuck you in to try and keep you alive. I guess that's probably a good thing for you, though. Right now you've got Ezio and Altair running around somewhere, all awake and not in comas. And you're completely out of it. You'd probably be stuck somewhere in the back of your own head if they hadn't put you in the animus. From here..." he shrugs. "I don't know how well it'll work, but if you keep going through your ancestors' memories, it could help your mind get its strength back, enough that you can take control of your own body again. Or one of theirs, maybe."

"I don't want to be in one of their bodies," Desmond argues. "I want to be back in mine."

"That's kind of selfish," Clay says. "Poor Altair's been hanging out in the back of your head for weeks. Shouldn't it be your turn now?"

"Hang on," Desmond says. "Let's- let's just pretend that you're right and I believe you. But if it is true, couldn't one of them end up in my body, and wake up-"

"So that you get pulled out of the animus?" Clay asks. "Yea. Could happen ten seconds from now, or ten years from now, or never. I don't know."

"And what happens then?" Desmond asks.

"Then you better hope they have the brains to stick themselves back in the animus," Altair says. "Or you're not ever going back to the real world." He smiles again.

"You could be a little less excited about this," Desmond complains.

"I can't help it," says Clay. "You're the most exciting thing that's happened here in- ever, probably."

"Well I'm glad my misery's making someone happy," Desmond mutters under his breath. Clay hears him anyway and laughs.

"Hey," he says. "I'm helping, aren't I? Good guy Clay."

"Yea," says Desmond. "Sure." If Clay's even right. If he's not crazy. Desmond can't decide if the worst part is that he's barely even skeptical anymore, thanks to all the other weird stuff that's happened lately, or that he suddenly has a very real worry that he'll never get back to the real world. He sighs, and asks, "How do I access memories from in here?" And how do I know when I've found the right ones?"

"I can help you with the first part," Clay says. "You've got people out there that help you, right? People that watch you when you're in the animus, and line up memories for you to live, and write you little notes to explain the history. As if you even need them, when you've got your ancestors' minds to pick through. I'll be doing all that while you're in here. Memories and memories and memories, until you wake up in your own body. Or one of them does."

"Why are you helping?" Desmond asks.

"I told you," Clay says. "I'm bored stiff in here. I'm just hoping none of you wakes up for a good long time. I could use some entertainment."

"Alright," Desmond says. He's not sure how much faith he can put in Clay to help out, but then again, he also doesn't have a choice. "Where do I start?"

**-/-**

**This chapter was even more fun to write than the last one. :) I've kind of been working toward this point for a while, but the details didn't quite fall into place until just now. Also, I wanted to say something about Clay, because I think it might seem a little weird that he knows all this stuff. So I'm just going to say that-**

**(a) I don't actually know how much interaction his ancestors had with pieces of Eden, but I'm going to guess it was a lot, because there's not a lot of other reasons for Abstergo to be interested. Plus he's basically part of the animus at this point, and the animus is just a weird kind of computer, which means Clay has a whole computer 's worth of processing power to help him find patterns and figure out what they mean, and-**

**(b) I needed some exposition.**

**Oh, and on a slightly unrelated note- **

**(c) I really apologize if Clay seemed sort of out of character. I've been watching a lot of _Sherlock _lately and I think there was probably some Moriarty leaking into Clay. Whoops, my bad.**

**TL;DR: Clay is good at exposition and _Sherlock _is a fun show.**


	32. Chapter 32

Altair spends almost an entire year in Masyaf, and during that time, nothing strange happens at all. At first, it's frustrating. There are questions he still wants answered, and he's worried for Desmond. But as time goes past, the frustration fades to numb acceptance. He's had a glimpse of the future that most men could only dream of, and if he still doesn't know how it all turns out, maybe it's for the best. Maybe it's just how the world is supposed to be. As for Desmond- that takes Altair longer to sort out, but he decides eventually that he must be dead. And as an assassin, Altair has seen many people die. He moves on. There are things he needs to do, and having seen the future, and the state of the assassins there, he is more determined than ever to do them.

The order grows strong again, and for a while, life is peaceful- or as peaceful as life can ever be for a group such as this.

One evening, Altair wakes in the middle of the night to find that the world around him has changed. The first thing he notices is that it's colder than when he went to sleep. He can even feel what might be snow, falling around him. He opens his eyes, and for a second, he can't understand what he sees there.

He's clearly still in Masyaf. The place has been his home for many years, and he can recognize it, even as he sees it now. Falling down, abandoned, dark and empty. He knows, as soon as he opens his eyes, that he has traveled through time. Time is the only thing that could have destroyed Masyaf quite this thoroughly. The only question is why he is here. With Desmond dead, he has assumed that the rest of his life will be spent the same was as everyone else's- one day at a time.

It could be that Desmond isn't dead- time in the twelfth century never passes at the same speed as it does in the twenty first. But still- it's been nearly a year. A few weeks, maybe a month. That he could understand. But nearly a year has gone by. If Desmond isn't dead, something else has gone seriously wrong. So something else must have pulled him here.

He leaves the castle, following the sounds of battle he can hear from far below. Normally, he would barely notice the sounds this close to the castle- there are always novices training in the ring, or assassins taking the time to brush up on their skills. But everything else is dead silent, and Altair can tell by the intensity of the fighting that this is no practice match.

He reaches the battle and hesitates on the edge. There are a dozen men, at least, all red as blood in eagle vision. Templars. They are dressed differently than the ones Altair is used to, but there's a certain cockiness to their kind that seems to persist down the centuries. None of them see him, which is exactly what Altair expects. He's a visitor to this time, just passing through. He only wonders who he's here to visit.

Studying the battle more closely, he finally catches sight of the man the templars are fighting. There are so many of them that he can barely see the stranger, and at first he only sees a flash of gray cloth, the glint of medal, a hood pulled low over the man's face. The tide of battle changes slightly- the man in gray is outnumbered, but holding his own, and for now at least, he is winning. He half turns, looking for the next enemy, and he looks straight at Altair.

It's Ezio. Older than the last time Altair remembers seeing him on a computer screen, hundred of miles and hundreds of years away. And much older than the one time Altair shared a mind with him in the animus. Time, it would seem, has not been kind.

One of the templars, seeing that Ezio is distracted, lunges forward, and it's all Ezio an do to get his arm up in time to stop the man from killing him. Altair watches the hidden blade there shatter, watches Ezio fall, watches the templars rush in around him, weapons extended. He can't do anything- invisible as a ghost, and just as helpless, he can only watch as Ezio is dragged away by templars, head down, probably unconscious.

He follows close behind as the templars climb the path to Masyaf. Ezio is left in a stone room with no windows and a door that locks. Altair slides through the door as the templars head out, no doubt to find their master somewhere in the castle. His lip curls at the thought of templars making a home in Masyaf, but there's nothing he can do about it. The only person here who can even see him is Ezio, and so he's the one that Altair decides to stay close to.

He sits cross legged on the floor and waits for Ezio to wake.

**-/-**

**C****hapter 32 officially makes this the longest fanfiction I've ever written. Yay for things no one cares about except me!**


	33. Chapter 33

Ezio comes to in a cell, tired and angry and cold. His weapons are gone, and he has no idea how long he's been out. Long enough to start aching from the cold floor, but then- that doesn't take as much time as it used to. He stands up, stretching a little to work the stiffness from his muscles, and startles as he hears someone cough behind him. He has assumed he was alone in the room, but when he looks around, there's a man in a white hood on the ground near the door. He's never met the man before, but he recognizes him instantly.

"Altair?" The man nods, so Ezio asks, "What are you doing here?"

"I wish I knew," Altair says, a trace of a frown on his face. His words come out carefully, like someone speaking a language he doesn't know well, and Ezio can see traces of golden lines glowing on on his face beneath the hood of his robes. It's a strange sight.

"What's wrong with your skin?"

"It's the apple," Altair says. He had been sitting on the ground up until then, but now he stands and comes within a few steps of Ezio. "I've had some practice with it lately- enough that it can translate for me when I need it- but it does look strange. And translation alone isn't much help- I can't get it to do more. Maybe with practice..." He shrugs, and draws back one sleeve so Ezio can see the pattern of lines there. It does look a lot like what he remembers of the apple.

"How does it feel?" Ezio asks. He remembers Desmond mentioning Altair's strange relationship with the apple, but this is his first time seeing it in person. "Does it hurt?"

"Not at all," says Altair, and abruptly changes the subject, pulling his arm back and letting the sleeve fall again. "What are you doing here?"

"I-" honestly, Ezio had come chasing the tale of Altair's library, but he feels strange saying it to Altair's face. Altair is much younger than Ezio has always imagined him to be. "Came looking for knowledge," he finishes, lamely.

"But you found templars," says Altair.

"I always seem to," Ezio grumbles.

Altair turns to the door, and a moment later Ezio hears footsteps coming toward the cell. "Can you get away from them?" Altair asks.

"Probably," Ezio says. "But I'm not sure where to go after that." Masyaf is isolated, and this is his first time in the ancient building.

"Don't worry," Altair says. "Just get away from them. I can't help you with that, but I know the castle well. I can show you a way out."

"Alright," Ezio says. The footsteps stop outside the door, and Ezio hears the scrape of a key in the lock. Quickly, before they can come in, he asks, "Have you seen Desmond lately?"

Altair glances at him very briefly, and then says, "No."

"Oh."

"But I think he's dead."

And with that grim statement, the door swings open. Ezio lets himself sag against the wall, putting on a show of weakness he knows the templars will believe. They want to believe they've defeated him, and he knows he looks old. He is old, and tired- but that doesn't mean he can't fight anymore.

They tie his hands, lead him roughly from the room, to a place where a bald templar waits with a noose. The other templars push Ezio toward him, and he stumbles a little. The bald man leads him onto a wooden platform, noose still in hand, but Ezio isn't worried. The rest of the templars are quite a ways behind the two of them, and he likes the odds better this way.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Altair walking out on a second wooden plank, careful to keep Ezio and the man with the noose in sight. An eagle cries, and the templar pulls down Ezio's hood. He feels the noose pulled tight over his neck-

He turns, and strikes.

He will not die today, and as he fights, he tries to put every ounce of this conviction into his movements. He cuts a path through the templars, most of them too confused by his unexpected movements to strike back, and ahead of him he sees Altair start to run.

When he was younger, he would have given anything to be here, fighting templars alongside the man who had reinvented what it meant to be an assassin. He can't pretend that he's not a little excited by it now. The two of them scale the side of the keep, and it's not long until Ezio runs across the weapons the templars took from him- one of his hidden blades is broken beyond all hope of repair, but he straps it on anyway. It's one of the few things he still has from Leonardo, and besides, he feels unbalanced without it. There's a sword, too, and he takes that- and then Altair is urging him onwards, and they run again.

A few times they have to stop so Ezio can take care of the templars in their way, but before long Altair comes to a stop in front of a stone statue of an eagle. "What now?" Ezio asks.

"The ground below here is thin," Altair says. "And below that is water." He glances down at the statue, and Ezio understands.

"Thank you," he says. Before Altair can say anything in reply, he fades away, leaving only Ezio, a dozen angry templars, and a leap of faith.

**-/-**

**...I'm honestly pretty sure the reason Revelations is my least favorite game is because it starts out with Ezio seeing Altair's ghost, or whatever it is, at Masyaf, and then it's never mentioned again. That could have been a really cool thing to explore. :/**

**Also, on a more story related point, I want to point out the difference between what the apple can do to Altair, and what Altair can do to the apple. In Rome, it's the apple inside Altair, reacting to the other apple, that lets Shaun and Rebecca see and talk to him. Acting on that, and given that he's had a year to practice, Altair is able to replicate that to the point where he can use the apple as a translator. Making himself visible to other people is a lot more difficult, and he's not at the point where he can do that. Yet. Or maybe not ever! I don't know. Probably it'll happen at some point, when I decide it's dramatically appropriate.**

**And a quick note that's sort of important but I keep forgetting to mention- I really have no idea what happens to Altair in canon after AC1. I mean, I have a kind of vague knowledge that he leaves Masyaf, marries Maria, has a couple kids, one of them dies- but most of that comes from Revelations and I'm always way too distracted with how cool it is that Ezio's going through Altair's memories to actually pay attention to what's going on. So that's my bad, and because I don't feel like doing research I'm just assuming that time travel messes everything up and so basically Altair's whole life after AC1 in this story falls into AU categories. **


	34. Chapter 34

**Trigger warnings: Clay being crazy and talk about suicides. idk if it's detailed enough to actually need a warning, but better safe than sorry.**

For the second time in one day, Desmond finds himself waking up flat on his back at animus island. Again, Clay is nearby, ready with a hand up and a piece of crazy and not so useful advice.

"What happened?" Desmond asks.

"I don't know," Clay says. "I wasn't watching."

"Yes you were."

Clay doesn't bother to deny it again. "I told you," he says. "You're weak right now. You couldn't last longer than one memory."

"Not that," Desmond says. He knows he's weak, he could feel it through the entire memory as he watched Ezio and Altair escape Masyaf together. "I meant, why couldn't they see me?"

"Welcome to the way normal people use the animus," Clay says.

"You're not helping, Clay," Desmond says. "And I'm not in the mood."

"Geeze." Clay rolls his eyes. "Touchy."

Desmond lets out a deep breath, mostly to keep himself from strangling Clay. "Not. Helping." The whole memory left a bad taste in his mouth, and it's all he can do not to take it out on the other man. Seeing Masyaf fallen to time is bad enough, but hearing Altair tell Ezio that he was dead was worse than he wants to admit.

"Alright," Clay says. "Let me explain this again, because apparently you're not getting it. You're pretty much a vegetable right now. Your body in the real world is basically empty, with just a tiny little bit of you left inside. Your two ancestors, on the other hand, are not brain dead, and you need to resync with the two of them before either one can notice you. It's just like when you first started with the animus. You didn't know Altair, and he didn't know you. Except it's worse, because back then you were just a little voice in the back of his head, and now you're not even that."

"Great," Desmond snorts. "Do you have any good news?"

"No."

"Oh," Desmond says. "Well, thanks for nothing, then. I guess."

"Quit complaining," Clay says. "At least you have a shot at getting out of here."

"Well maybe if you didn't want to spend the rest of your life in the animus, you shouldn't have ripped yourself open with a pen," Desmond says.

Clay laughs. "How can you possibly be this thick?" he asks. "I was bleeding."

"Yea," Desmond agrees. "All over the walls, and the floor, and most of the furniture-"

"Not literally bleeding," Clay says. "Falling apart. I told you before, you're never going to have to deal with that. You don't know what it's like to have a dozen people in your head and not know which one is you. You're never going to wake up and wonder what century you were born in. And then one day you wake up, and there's so many people in your head, and it just feels like they're all going to burst out whether you want them to or not..." he stops, visibly trying to calm himself.

Desmond, a little worried, watches but says nothing. He knows he should say something, but he has no idea what that something should be.

"I'm going to send you into the next memory now," says Clay. "Here's hoping you get everything worked out in your messed up brain soon, because I'm starting to not want you here."

"Clay-"

It's too late. Animus island dissolves around him, and Desmond finds himself at the start of another one of Ezio's memories, Clay nowhere in sight.


	35. Chapter 35

Even after he makes it back to Masyaf- his Masyaf, before time and templars manage to take away everything that makes it home- Altair has a hard time getting the incident out of his mind. When he tells the story to Malik, his friend can only offer a few words of sympathy. No real help. Altair is disappointed, but not surprised. He tries to to imagine what he would have said a few years ago, if someone told him he would soon have time travel to worry over. He decides he wouldn't have had anything nice to say.

He spends a lot of time worrying about it in private, and wishing there was someone he could talk with about it all. He starts to cut himself off from the rest of the order again, much to Malik's frustration. "You're supposed to be an example here," his friend snaps one night. "Not a novice with an overinflated opinion of himself."

It's on that same night, many hours after Malik has given up on Altair and left him alone, that Altair hears something behind him and turns, fully expecting another argument. He has an angry statement half ready on his tongue when he sees who it is in his doorway, and stops. "Ezio," he says, and he's pleased to find that he barely needs to try to make the apple translate for him. It gets easier every time. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah-" Ezio looks a little worn out. Honestly he looks like he's been crawling around underground somewhere. "It's a long story."

"It's always a long story," Altair says.

"True," Ezio laughs, and sits down. "I told you I came to Masyaf to search for wisdom. I didn't find it. But there's a locked door under the keep-"

"No there isn't," Altair interrupts.

"There will be, then," Ezio insists. "Someday. And the keys that unlock it are-" he reaches into his robes and pulls out a smooth stone disk. It glows dimly, and the faint reaction Altair can feel from the apple tells him its precursor technology. "They're you."

"What do you mean they're me?" Altair asks.

"I've never seen an animus," Ezio says. "But I think this is probably close to the same thing. Only it's not limited to looking at your ancestors. I found this under Constantinople, and I could..." he hesitates, weighing words. "Feel that there was someone in here. I didn't realize it was you until I got here."

He passes over the disk, and Altair turns it over in his hands. "So you're looking at my memories now," he says. "And someday I'll have to go track these disks down to record the memories onto them."

"So that someday I can find them, and use them to come tell you to go look for them," says Ezio.

"Why didn't I put more interesting memories on them?" Altair asks.

"I don't know," Ezio says. "They're your memories."

Altair passes the disk back. "And they're keys, too?" he says. "What do they unlock?"

Most people wouldn't have noticed the flicker of hesitation that crosses Ezio's face, but Altiar is good at reading people. Almost as good- he thinks of Malik- as he is at driving them away. "There's an old legend," he admits. "The library of Altair-"

It strikes Altair as funny, all of a sudden. Here's this man- a master assassin in his own right, many years Altair's senior, weathered and battle scarred- and for some reason, he still thinks Altair is some mythic figure out of legend. He laughs, and thinks- that statue in the sanctuary has a lot to answer for. "I promise," he says. "Whatever wisdom you think is hiding in there, it's not worth it. I don't have much to offer."

Ezio looks him over. "How old are you?" he asks.

"Twenty eight," he says.

"Don't give up on yourself yet," Ezio says. "Trust me, when you're old, looking back on twenty eight feels like looking at the ground from the top of a cliff." He shrugs. "I wasn't even a full assassin until I was twenty nine."

Altair considers the man across the table from him, feeling his respect grow. Before Desmond died, Altair heard a lot about what Ezio had managed to do for the brotherhood. It had been a scattered mess when Ezio began, and by the end- "I don't think I can do what you did," he says. The words are bitter on his tongue, and he feels incredibly small as he says them. "I know how to fight, and I know how to kill. I don't know how to lead."

"You'll learn," Ezio tells him.

"And?" Altair asks. "Even if I do everything you think I can do, it'll all be gone by the time you're born. Desmond told me- the order is scattered and weak. The templars have all the power."

"But there are still assassins," Ezio says. "There are always assassins. Look at Desmond's time- the templars have all the power again, and everything I've done in my lifetime is gone. But the assassins are still there. There will always be assassins, as long as there are templars. As long as there are people that don't believe in freedom."

Altair sighs. "I remember the day Desmond came out of the animus saying he'd just lived through the birth of some ancestor that couldn't be bothered to figure out how to _breathe_," he says. "When did you get this all figured out?"

"Right now probably isn't the best time to mention the codex," Ezio says.

"The what?"

"Altair?"

He turns, and finds Malik in the doorway, looking at him like he's just lost his mind. "Who are you talking to?"

"Who's he?" Ezio asks, at almost the exact same time. Altair looks between the two of them, and gives a mental sigh. He can already tell that between Malik's sarcasm and Ezio's invisibility (much the way no one but Desmond could see Altair, it seems Altair is the only one who can see Ezio), this is going to be a difficult conversation.


	36. Chapter 36

In all fairness, Ezio has never been a morning person. Which is probably why it takes him nearly two full minutes to realize that something is wrong. He's actually standing up, eyes half open, when the thought crosses his mind- _This isn't me_.

He's not a morning person, but he can wake up quickly when he has to, and this is one of those times. His eyes fly open, and he sees that he's- he has no idea where he is. He has no idea who he is, actually. This isn't his body, it belongs to someone slightly shorter than him, with less hair but more quite a lot of stubble. He's definitely younger (that feels strange), and there's a tattoo on one arm.

_"It's Desmond's."_

If not for the years he spent in Rome getting used to another voice in his head, Ezio might have fallen over right then. _"What?"_

_"The body. It's Desmond's."_

_"And you're-"_

_"Altair."_

_"Oh." _Ezio holds up his- Desmond's hands, looking them over carefully. It's the strangest thing he's ever seen. _"You sound different in my head. Desmond's head. So- this is Desmond's body, you're Altair, I'm Ezio-"_

_"Did you have to check that?"_

_"I'm having an unusual day. What are we doing here? I thought you said he was dead."_

_"I thought he was." _Altair is quiet for a minute. _"Ezio, listen to me. Whatever's going on here, there are going to be people around that expect you to be Desmond."_

_"I don't know how to be Desmond. I've never even been to 2012 before."_

_"Right." _Altair sounds tired. _"I have"_

_"Where are we?"_

_"Back of a van," _Altair says. _"This is actually a lot easier when Desmond's here- his brain kind of fills in the details."_

_"Oh." _Ezio looks around the van. It's a tiny moving space, packed in tight with-

_"Computers," _Altair prompts.

Whatever those are. There's also three other people in the van, two in the front, not looking at him, and one nearby, head on her chest, arms crossed, fast asleep. The van bumps suddenly, and the sleeping woman comes awake. She blinks, looks at Ezio, and half a second later she's out of her seat and giving him one of the most enthusiastic hugs he's ever received.

"Oh my God, Desmond-" She's crying, and Ezio panics a little. One thing he's never been good at is crying women.

_"I have no idea what's going on."_

_"Which is... probably fine," _Altair says. _"Because if she's this upset, Desmond's probably been out for a while, so he might be confused."_

_"Who's hugging me?"_

_"Her name's Rebecca," _Altair says. _"She's an assassin, works on the animus with Desmond."_

"Shaun said you were probably never going to wake up, but I knew he was wrong," Rebecca says, letting go of him and stepping back.

_"Shaun?" _Ezio asks.

_"Also an assassin. Not very friendly but not a bad guy."_

_"So who's the third guy?" Ezio asks._

_"No idea."_

The van sways and Ezio half falls. He can't get over the constant movement.

"Yea," Rebecca says. "You just sit down. I'm going to go talk to Shaun- oh! And your dad showed up, after..." she trails off. "You know."

_"I don't know."_

Rebecca hurries back to the front of the van, where she has a whispered conversation with the two men there.

_"What don't I know?" _Ezio asks.

_"He went to get the apple back from the Colloseum," _Altair says. _"Everything went wrong. His friend... died." _Ezio can tell in the way Altair says it that there's more to the story, and makes a mental note to ask when they're not pressed for time. _"I thought he was dead too, but I guess he's just been unconscious. That must be why they put him in the animus."_

_"This is an animus?" _Ezio asks, looking down at the chair. _"I thought it would look different."_

_"Do you speak English?" _Altair asks.

_"What? No."_

_"You understood Rebecca," _Altair says.

_"I thought that was your apple. You said it translates things."_

_"It's tied to my body," _says Altair. _"This is Desmond's. But... there was another apple. The one you put in the Colosseum. They took it, but... I don't see it here."_

It takes Ezio about half a second to make the connection, and then he looks down at his arms. Very faintly, he can see the lines of an apple glowing there. _"Is this good or bad?" _he asks.

_"I don't know."_

"Hey Desmond," Rebecca calls. "Your dad wants to talk to you, if you're feeling up to it."

"Oh." He's never met Desmond's dad. It doesn't sound like Altair has, either. Briefly, Ezio wonders what he's done in his life to deserve this.

_"But that's bad," _says Altair. _"Unless we can figure out how to convince his own father that Desmond's in here somewhere."_


	37. Chapter 37

_Dark._

_It's cold, and hard, like steel bars around him. He's trapped in his own mind and there's no way out._

_He's alone, and there are voices, high up and far away-_

_But he doesn't listen, he's too tired, and too weak, and too small, wedged into his own head. There's only the darkness, and far off, the voices._

_Desmond is falling, into a dark pit with no bottom and no way out._

**-/-**

**Sorry. Dumb chapter, but I needed to show how bad it is for Desmond to be out of the animus right now. I'll just be leaving now...**


	38. Chapter 38

They pull the van over at the first gas station they get to. Shaun gets out, muttering something about filling the tank up, and Rebecca very quickly follows him. Altair and Ezio wait in complete silence, while Desmond's father climbs out of the driver's seat and climbs around to the back. Altair suddenly realizes that he doesn't even know what the man's name is, much less what to do here.

But while he's worried, Ezio is practically losing it. It's his first time in the future, his first time, in Desmond's body, and he has no idea how to act, either. Altair feels his mind practically buzzing from the overload of information, and he can't help but admire him for not jumping to his feet and pacing around the back of the van, as he so clearly wants to do.

Desmond's father sits down across from them, and for a few minutes there's nothing but awkward silence. "So," he says at last. "I'm going to be honest, Desmond. When you left the Farm, I didn't think our next conversation would be nine years later in the back of a van. This isn't really how I expected this conversation to go."

"Uh, yea," Ezio says, "Me neither." He rubs his hands together nervously, and asks Altair, _"What's he talking about?"_

_"I don't know," _Altair says. _"I know Desmond didn't like anyone looking at his earlier memories, so I never did." _It hadn't always been easy, because when they shared a mind, it was as easy to see Desmond's memories as his own. He'd done his best to stay out, though, because he knew there were parts of his own life he still liked to pretend were private."

_"Neither did I," _Ezio says.

"I never thought you actually meant to leave for good," the man continues. "You never really did think things through. I thought you'd come crawling back before the end of the month. But you never did. I think your mother gave up on you, you know." His voice is a little angry now, and it gets louder as he goes on. "You could have at least thought of her before you decided to waste your life making drinks in New York."

He's looking at them, and while there's definitely anger there, Altair can see something else in his expression- he's waiting for an explanation, and neither of them have one to give.

Finally, Ezio says, "I didn't think it would bother you that much."

_"Where did that come from?" _Altair asks.

_"I don't know! I had to say something."_

"Until I heard you were at Abstergo, I didn't know if you were alive or dead," Desmond's father snaps. "Great job with that, by the way."

Ezio gets up, trips over Desmond's feet, and says, "I don't want to talk about this," he says, and Altair can't blame him for wanting to put the conversation off until they can figure out what they're actually talking about.

"Well you're going to talk about it," the man says- yells, really. "Because I've been waiting nine years to find out what was so bad that you had to run away in the middle of the night!" He gets to his feet as well, and jabs a finger so close to their face that Altair feels Ezio go cross eyed looking at it. "Are you really just that selfish, that you didn't think you would hurt anyone by leaving? And now you just 'don't want to talk about it'? You don't get to not talk about it. You don't have that right."

Altair probably would have said something. He's been in Desmond's head enough by now to decide that he's actually not that bad of a person. Probably even a friend, and Altair doesn't make friends easily. So if he'd been in control of Desmond's body at that moment, the fight might have gotten a lot worse right then. Ezio doesn't say a word, though, just looks at the man with sad eyes.

"You know what?" Desmond's father says. "Forget it. If you're just going to be stubborn, you can at least be helpful. I'm sure there's something left in the animus you can dig up."

"But-" Altair can feel Ezio about to start arguing, and jumps in as quickly as he can.

_"Ezio, shut up," _he says. _"The animus is the only thing that's always been a guaranteed way out of this time."_

Ezio shuts up, and nods instead. "Fine," he says.

Shaun sticks his head back in the van at that point, and calls, "Rebecca's gone in for food, do you need anything? Desmond? Bill?" His cheerful tone sounds more than a little forced, and Altair wonders how much of the argument he and Rebecca were able to hear from outside the van.

_"At least we know his name now," _he says to Ezio, who doesn't answer.

"No," Bill says curtly. "Desmond's going back in the animus. Go and get Rebecca back in here."

Shaun doesn't argue- Altair's pretty sure it's the first time he's seen him follow an order so quickly, but Bill does seem angry. Less than five minutes later they're back on the animus, going through the same start up routine as usual.

The animus comes online with a burst of static, pushing Altair and Ezio out of Desmond with near painful abruptness. And for just a second, as his consciousness goes hurtling through time and space, back to Masyaf, Altair can swear he feels someone else in the mind. Way down in the back, small and quiet and weak, he feels- someone. It's too faint to recognize, but he still feels a sudden jolt of excitement, because it's not him, and it's not Ezio, so it can't be anyone else but Desmond.

And then he hears Rebecca say, in a voice tinged with panic- "He's going under again!" before he's back in his own body, safely at Masyaf.

He sighs, and stretches, taking stock of his own body and mind, reminding himself what he's doing and where he is. It's sort of become a habit lately, because he can never be quite sure that no one else has been in there when he goes out. He's outside the keep, just where he was before being pulled into he back of a van in the twenty first century. A new group of novices trip over themselves in the training ring under the eyes of an exasperated assassin tasked with training them. Several older assassins are gathered around to watch, pointing out the novices' mistakes and pretending they hadn't made the exact same ones when they were younger. Entertainment is difficult to come by for assassins.

"How long were you gone?" Malik asks quietly from next to Altair. He knows the signs, knows what it means when Altair has to take a second to put his mind and body back in order.

"Not long," Altair says. Ever since the day Malik and Ezio 'met', Malik's been a lot more open with him. Altair's known for a while that Malik had never _quite _believed his stories of time travel and living inside a stranger's body. And while he doesn't quite understand how a conversation with a man he could neither see nor hear managed to convince Malik of the truth, he's still grateful for it. The apple is easier to work with when he has someone to talk to about it.

Not that he's really gotten any better at controlling it.

"You sound... different," Malik says. "Something happened while you were gone."

"It's not something I want to talk about here," Altair says. "But I think Desmond is alive."

Malik turns to look at him, then nods. "Ah," he says. "I see."

"See what?" Altair asks.

"Why you sound different," Malik says. "You're smiling."

**-/-**

***hides in a corner because uggh this chapter is awful***


	39. Chapter 39

For Desmond, the next few weeks- or months, or years, it's hard to tell, and he's not really sure it matters- are the worst of his life. He digs through dozens of memories from Ezio and Altair, but he can't do anything the entire time except listen and watch.

In Constantinople, Ezio splits his time between hunting down keys that somehow hold Altair's memories, and falling in love with a woman nearly twenty years younger than him. It's sort of funny, watching him follow her around, more than fifty years old, looking for all the world like a lovesick puppy. Desmond would have given quite a lot to be able to joke with him about it.

In Masyaf, Altair's life is a little less exciting. He spends a lot of time locked up, sometimes alone, sometimes with Malik, delving deeper and deeper into the mysteries of the apple hidden under his skin. Desmond can tell he's making progress, he can feel Altair's satisfaction growing with every memory he goes through. But he doesn't understand what he's doing, not completely, and it's very hard for Desmond to not be able to just ask him what's going on.

But at least Ezio's around to ask the questions Desmond can't. So he learns that Altair is very, very close to finding out how to make the apple take him across the centuries when he wants, instead of when _it _wants. It's impressive, something Ezio has never hesitated to point out. He's never quite gotten over his early admiration of the Syrian assassin, and it shows. The irony is that Altair's developing nearly the same admiration for Ezio. It's probably inevitable, Desmond decides. Altair knows he's supposed to lead the order into a new age, but he doesn't know how. Ezio, on the other hand, has already managed to do it. Really, the only difference is that Altair doesn't know what to do with that respect, so he hides it behind dry observations about Ezio's new girlfriend. Desmond comforts himself that at least someone is making the jokes he can't. Even if Altair isn't really very funny.

The two of them meet frequently. More frequently than Desmond would have liked. Part of it's worry, because of what Clay said about the barriers breaking down between what makes Desmond and Altair and Ezio different people. And part of it's just him being stupid and lonely, and jealous that they can meet and talk while he's only able to watch and listen.

They meet in Constantinople, and in Masyaf. Sometimes they meet on purpose, when Ezio tracks down another one of the keys, and sometimes they meet on accident, the same way Desmond used to come out of the animus and find Altair waiting in his head.

But the worst part is that at least once, they meet in the back of a van in Italy. Desmond doesn't know for sure what happened there, because they never really talk about it. But he knows they were in his body, probably during the time he was pulled out of the animus.

He doesn't remember much of that time. Just darkness.

It scares him that they can use his body when he's not even there. He's also sort of worried about what they might have said. Not that he thinks either of them is likely to start talking about time travel and sharing minds and any of the other weird stuff they've gone through. Ezio's never told anyone, and Altair's only ever told Malik. He doesn't think they'll tell anyone else anytime soon.

But it's motivation, at least. It isn't long before Desmond can feel himself getting stronger. He's close- very close- to breaking through. To being heard again. So he works harder, pulling himself slowly together through sheer strength of will.

And then one day it works. Sort of.

It actually works _too_ well.

**-/-**

**Another filler chapter. Gross. Next one should be... interesting, though. Unless it all goes horribly wrong. **


	40. Chapter 40

=Desmond=

For exactly half a second after he wakes up, Desmond thinks it's just another memory. He's in Masyaf, in Altair's head, and he's alone. He looks down at his hands, wondering how it feels so strange. He's been here hundreds of times, but always as a passenger. Never in control. He almost feels like laughing, because he's been trying so hard to just get _noticed _by Altair or Ezio, and here he is, suddenly filling Altair's whole head.

"How long were you gone?" Malik asks, and Desmond jumps. He hasn't realized until now that there's anyone else in the room with him. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Maybe it's the shock, or maybe he's just not used to talking to anyone other than Clay these days. Either way, he's suddenly frozen, totally speechless.

"Altair?" Malik asks. His first question had sounded routine, as commonplace as a hello or a question about the weather. Now he sounds concerned. "What's the matter?" Desmond shakes his head, trying to force himself to focus. "Altair," Malik repeats, more loudly.

This time, Desmond manages a "No." He takes a deep breath, tries to pull himself together. Malik stares at him, and then abruptly Desmond finds himself on his back, pinned down by the weight of the one armed assassin. And Desmond isn't Altair, but he's picked up more than a few of his skills- and Ezio's, too. He fights back, but Malik isn't hampered by the shock of waking up in control of someone else's body.

They eventually end up in a stalemate, standing at opposite ends of the room, waiting for the other to make a move first. "Can we just talk?" Desmond says. "I swear-" his voice isn't his, which really shouldn't surprise him, but somehow still does.

"Who are you?" Malik asks. "You're definitely not Altair." He studies Desmond carefully, then adds, "I don't think you're Ezio, either. I've met him." He pauses, and acknowledges- "Sort of."

"My name's Desmond."

"Oh." Malik stares at him, then cautiously drops his guard. After a second, Desmond does the same. "I'd started to think he made you up."

"Nope," Desmond says. "Totally real."

"Fine," Malik says. "So you're Desmond. Where's Altair?"

"Ah..." Desmond bites his lip. "I have absolutely no idea."

=Ezio=

"Hey, Desmond-"

Ezio groans, reaches a hand out to rub his head. It hurts, like he's slept on it badly. Only he doesn't remember falling asleep- he remembers standing in front of the door to the library under Masyaf, finally holding all the keys. He opens his eyes and sees Rebecca standing a foot or so away from him. "What's going on?"

"You're awake," she says.

"I know." He's a little confused- it's been a while since he last woke up in Desmond's head. He's been seeing a lot of Altair lately, and no Desmond at all. "Why am I awake?" He's alone now, though. No sign of Altair. And no sign of Desmond, either. Not that Ezio really expected to find him after all this time.

"We're at the airport," Rebecca says. "And your dad suggested it would be less suspicious if we could get you through security under your own power instead of carting you through on the animus."

"I said you'd probably just fall over again," Shaun calls from the other side of the van. "But nobody listens to me."

"Do you think you can walk?" Rebecca asks, ignoring Shaun.

"Yes," Ezio says. He's not sure how well he can do anything else (for starters, he has no idea what an airport is), but he knows he can at least walk.

"Awesome," Rebecca says, managing a smile. It's not a particularly happy smile, but Ezio decides he likes her for trying. "I just need to finish shutting down the animus. I don't want anyone getting too interested."

"How are you getting it onto the plane?" Shaun asks.

"Bill's talking to security now," Rebecca says. "He's telling them it's medical equipment."

"What medical equipment have you ever seen that looks like this?" Shaun asks.

Rebecca glares at him. "They're airport security, not doctors."

"I'm just asking. No need to get all defensive," Shaun mutters.

Ezio can't help but feel grateful as they start arguing at each other. He can tell they're tired and stressed, not actually angry, and he takes the time to pull himself together while they yell at each other. He stretches, trying to look like someone that's just woken up instead of someone trying to figure out the body he's in. The faint golden lines under his skin remind him of something Altair mentioned the last time they were in the future together. "Where's the apple?" he asks.

"Ah..." Rebecca and Shaun stop arguing long enough to exchange a significant look, and Shaun says, "Alright, so you know how nothing the apple does ever makes sense?"

"Yes," Ezio says.

"It's sort of been absorbed by your body," Shaun says. "Pretty much right after we got it out of the Colloseum. But we're pretty sure it's not going to kill you."

Ezio sighs- it probably would have been too much to hope neither of them would have noticed.

"Your dad's kind of pissed about it though."

"Shaun!" Rebecca glares at him, then tells Desmond, "It lights up sometimes while you're in the animus. That's how we actually noticed at first. It's almost like it's been trying to interface with some of the memories you've been going through-"

"Wait, what?" Ezio interrupts. "Memories?"

"Yea, Desmond," Shaun snaps. "Memories. "You know, the entire reason you've been in the animus for the past couple months."

"But-" But he hasn't been in the animus. And Altair probably would have mentioned if he's been in anytime lately. So either there's someone else in Desmond's head, or else Desmond himself is still alive. Trapped in the animus, maybe. But still alive.

"Come on," Rebecca says. "You ready?"

=Altair=

He's not even surprised anymore when he moves between centuries in the time it takes to blink. He's been in Ezio's head enough by now to be comfortable there, although he's definitely not used to being alone. It's inconvenient too, because he and Ezio don't have a language in common, and Ezio's the only one without an apple to act as a translator.

It doesn't seem like it's going to matter too much now, though. He's alone, standing before a door that's unlocked but closed, and he knows- with a certainty that sort of surprises him- that this is the library Ezio's been so obsessed with finding. Opening it feels like a bad idea, for all sorts of reasons, but Altair's curiosity gets the better of him, and he ignores the feeling.

The room is nearly empty. Apart from an ancient table and chair in the middle of the floor, there's no furniture. The only other thing in the room is a smooth disk, exactly identical to the ones Ezio has painstakingly tracked down and used to unlock this room. Those ones hold his memories- Altair wonders whose memories are on this disk.

He grabs hold of it, opening his mind to whatever secrets are held there, the same way he does when he needs the apple to do something for him. He's expecting memories, but what happens is something very different. The room fills suddenly with light, and when it fades again, Altair is not alone.

**-/-**

**Just going to say, you guys are cool. Waking up to a bunch of new story fav/alert notices in my email is a good way to start the morning.**


	41. Chapter 41

=Desmond=

In the time since he was first kidnapped by Abstergo, the amount of people Desmond has actually talked to has been small. Altair, Ezio, Rebecca, Shaun, Lucy, Vidic, and, just recently, Clay. Seven people. Altair and Ezio mostly live inside his own head (when he's not hanging out in theirs). Vidic wants him dead, and Lucy might have too. He tries not to think about what Lucy wanted too much. He's been lying to Rebecca and Shaun from the beginning. And Clay is either insane or basically a computer. Possibly both.

And now he can add Malik to that list, which is nice. What's better is that Malik isn't in his head, trying to kill him, a computer, or someone Desmond has to lie to. And it's good to be back in the real world, out of the animus as well. There's something about the air in the animus that doesn't ever quite manage to feel quite right. It's sort of feels stale and second hand, which doesn't make sense when Desmond remembers that his body is actually lying somewhere in the real world, breathing perfectly normal air.

This is better.

After he and Malik are able to relax enough that neither of them seems likely to kill the other, they sit down, and Desmond does his best to try and answer the questions Malik starts throwing at him. It's not easy, because he actually doesn't know what's been going on in his time, or where Altair's gone while Desmond borrows his body, or how they're both going to get back to where they're supposed to be.

"I had heard you were dead," Malik says, after Desmond's gone through every variation of 'I don't know' he can think of.

"I'm not," Desmond says.

"Obviously," Malik says, and goes back to studying him.

"You keep doing that," Desmond says.

"Doing what?"

"Staring at me."

Malik lets out a long breath and shakes his head. "Sorry," he says. "It's just that you could be him."

"Who?" Desmond asks, and then right away feels stupid for asking. "You mean Altair?"

"Yes," Malik says. "You look and sound like him. You make the same gestures and use the same expressions. Why?"

Desmond shrugs, a little uncomfortable. After the first shock, he's found it easy to slip into being Altair. Maybe it's thanks to the animus, or spending so much time with Altair in his head, or both. He speaks carefully, trying to put it into words that would make sense to someone else. "I think there's a connection between every person's mind and their body. It's like a set of clothes that you wear until they start to mold themselves around you. Like shoes that don't fit right when you put them on, but after some time they feel like they were made for you. Everyone has things only they do. A specific way of walking, a different way of speaking, a thousand little things that lets you pick out one person in a crowd. After a while, I think those things your brain do start to bleed into their body. Most people don't have the exact same walk, but nobody ever thinks about it because the body does it on it's own. So when I'm in Altair's body, my mind sort of naturally falls into the habits of his body." He shrugs, and offers Malik a grin that feels not at all at home on Altair's stoic face. "I could act more like myself, but it feels... wrong." Like swimming upstream against a current.

He doesn't mention Clay's theory that he and Altair and Ezio have in some way become the same, thanks to exposure to the apple. He doesn't know if that has anything to do with it, or if it's even right. It kind of just sounds like Clay being crazy.

Unfortunately, from what he knows of Clay so far, Clay being crazy is usually the same as Clay being right.

"It's still strange," Malik says. "And you're glowing."

"What?" Desmond looks down at his arms, which have actually started to glow. "That's... different." He wonders how he hasn't noticed it before.

"I've never seen it that bright," says Malik.

"Something's going to happen," Desmond says. He can feel the apple inside him. It feels- excited, if a word like that can be used on a metal ball.

"What?"

"I don't know," Desmond says, and vanishes. Physically vanishes, body and all, leaving Malik alone in the room.

=Ezio=

Ezio's actually in the bathroom when it happens, which is lucky. Three seconds later and he would have been on his way out, and someone would have seen what happens next. It's a little funny, actually, because he would have more trouble staying unnoticed in this airport than anywhere else he's ever seen. And since he spent a solid two years of his life finding creative ways in and out of the Vatican, that's an impressive accomplishment.

On the way into the airport, Rebecca and Shaun give him a running commentary on all the reasons assassins wait in line for security and go through customs just like everybody else. He doesn't understand all of it (new words for today include security camera, TSA, and metal detector), but he gets enough of the meaning to understand that basically it's less risky to just get a fake passport and a cover story and pretend to be normal for a few hours.

He's actually not sure that he's safe from prying eyes here, but at least there's less people around to notice when the apple suddenly wakes up and bursts into light, much brighter than the dim glow Ezio is used to seeing. An old man at the sinks gives him an open mouthed stare, but there's nothing Ezio can do about that as he abruptly vanishes from the world.

**-/-**

**So, this chapter and the next one were supposed to be just one chapter, but I decided to split them up. There's a reason for that, and the reason is that chapter 42 is BIG. It's not the longest in terms of word count (although it's probably in the top five or so), but it's definitely big in terms of actual plot. It's also pretty confusing, and I didn't want to tack a whole confusing section onto the end of this one. SO. I guess the point is to be ready for some confusion when the next chapter hits.**


	42. Chapter 42

**N****ames refer to the person inside the head, and not whose body it is. (Desmond=Desmond in Altair's body, Altair=Altair in Ezio's body, Ezio= Ezio in Desmond's body).**

=Altair=Ezio=Desmond=

For a second, the three of them stand in the room, not really sure what to do or say. Two of them are glowing, and the disk in Altair's hand is still bright as well. The light from the key only lingers a minute or so, and then it abruptly fades. As if following some kind of sign, all three of them burst into speech at the exact same moment.

It's a chaotic scene, words flying past in three different languages, as all three of them try to figure out what's going on, and why, and how. No one's listening to each other, and no one shows any sign of quieting down, until Desmond yells, "Hey!" as loudly as he can. He's still in Altair's body, and Altair doesn't yell. He just doesn't. It's enough of a surprise to get the other two to be quiet, at least for the moment.

Ezio looks at him and wonders what's going on with him, and then back at his own body on the other side of the table. Right now, he's a lot more interested in who's in there than what's going on with Altair.

"Okay," Desmond says. "Can we just figure out what's going on here?" He says it in Italian, because there's only one person in the room without an apple to translate for them. He glances over at his body, which is still glowing weirdly, and wonders who's been messing with it while he was stuck in the animus.

Altair glares at him. He doesn't like not knowing what's going on, and this situation is quickly spiraling out of control. "I have no idea what you just said."

"Oh." Desmond looks at him in surprise, and quickly switches languages. "Altair?"

Altair nods, and tries not to stare at his own body, which is staring back at him. "Who are you?"

"Desmond," says Desmond.

"I'm Ezio, in case anyone wanted to know," Ezio adds. Then he does a double take, and grins at Desmond. "So you are alive!"

"Ye-"

Desmond's answer is abruptly cut off by an unexpected hug from Ezio.

"This is the strangest thing I've ever seen," Altair mutters, and Ezio steps back, still smiling.

"So I guess you missed me?" Desmond asks. He abruptly realizes that being hugged by someone else in his own body isn't even the weirdest thing that's happened to him today, and decides that probably says something about his mental state at the moment.

"We thought you were dead," Altair says.

"I'm not," Desmond says. "I just..." he shrugs, suddenly self conscious. "After Lucy... I think I kind of shut down a little."

The others don't say anything, but they don't have to. They've all lost people, and they all know how it hurts. "Glad you're back now," Ezio says.

"Yea, well I'll be happier when I can get back in my body," Desmond tells him. "What's been going on since then? I mean, I think I saw most of it in the animus, but-"

"So you were the one looking through memories," Ezio interrupts. "Rebecca said someone had been, but I wasn't sure it was you."

"When did that happen?" Altair asks.

"Just recently," Ezio tells him. "Today."

There's a lot of explanations, from everyone, and they take a while to get through. At the end of it, Ezio asks, "So does anyone know how we actually get back to where we're supposed to be?"

"I have some ideas," Altair says.

"Can we just enjoy the moment for a second?" Desmond asks. "Technically, this is the first time any of us have physically been in the same place."

"Of course we'd all be in the wrong bodies for it," Altair complains.

"It's an appropriate place, though," says Ezio. "I mean, 'the library of Altair'." He laughs. "I thought there was supposed to be some great, hidden wisdoms here. But there were no secrets. Just you."

"Thanks," says Desmond. He looks over at Altair. "You said you thought you knew how to get us all back where we're supposed to be?"

Altair nods. "I've been working with the apple a lot," he says. "I think I could probably use it to move between the three of us."

"But you're the only one without an apple right now," Ezio points out. "And neither of us know what we're doing." He points at Desmond. "Maybe if we had a few years to figure it out..."

"It doesn't matter," says Altair. "Because of this." He holds up the last key, the one he found on the table when he came in. "This is what brought the two of you here," he said.

"And you think it can send us away again?" Desmond asks. "I get that you know more about this stuff than we do, but you've never seen that thing before. You can't know what it does already."

"Yes I can," Altair says. "Because Ezio's right. This is _my _library. So at some point in the future... past?" he frowns. "In _my_ future, I'm going to find or make these keys, and leave this here, for me to find now." He has no idea how any of that is going to happen, but it's a problem he can solve later. "And there's no reason I wouldn't leave us a way out."

"That's either the most complicated thing I've ever heard, or the smartest," Desmond says, after a long pause.

"Let's go with smartest," Ezio says. "Can you try it?"

Altair nods, and closes his eyes, the better to focus on the disk in his hands. Now that he understands what the disk is here for, it responds easily to his touch. It feels like it was made for him- possibly because it was. This time, when the light comes, it's not unexpected at all. He welcomes it, drawing it inside himself, and then sends it outward to the others.

For either a moment or a hundred years, they're all connected, with no barriers of mind or body between the three of them. Altair remembers what Desmond said Clay told him- that in some ways, they really are all the same. Right now, it's easy to believe.

Then they separate- back to their own bodies, and their own times. Desmond, to a 21st century airport in Italy; Altair, to 12th century Masyaf; and Ezio, who doesn't need to move at all.

When the light fades, Ezio opens his eyes, fighting a momentary wave of dizziness. He's alone, in both mind and body, and his hands are clenched around the disk. He's holding it with an intensity leftover from Altair, and it takes a few seconds before he can loosen his grip.

He thinks about leaving it there, but very quickly decides not to. After all, there's no guarantee they won't be in this situation again. There's also no guarantee the disk will work twice, but Ezio decides not to think about that.

Instead, he pockets the disk and walks out. He leaves Masyaf behind without looking back once- he's fairly confident he'll see it again someday. Or Altair will, and that's more or less the same thing.

**-/-**

**Ah... so many things to say about this chapter.**

**1-If you're still here and still reading and still interested, THANK YOU. I feel like this one's really weird, and if you actually care enough to stick around, that means a lot to me.**

**2- Writing three different people in three different heads, when none of them know who's actually in which head, is extremely difficult. I never rewrite chapters, but this one went through three versions before I settled on this one (in case you were wondering, I tried it from Altair's POV and then Desmond's before I decided it worked better when I could put all of their thoughts in).**

**3- This isn't going to stop me from doing it again, although I will probably try to be more organized next time.**

**4- It's definitely not going to stop me from adding Haytham, Connor, and Edward, if this story ends up going that far. (For MAXIMUM confusion)**

**5- On top of the weird POV stuff, this chapter was hard to write because I wanted to do justice to my favorite memory in the series. For some reason I really love Ezio finding Altair's body in the library and then going on to give Desmond that whole speech thing. I've been trying to figure out what to do since probably chapter five. I'm fairly happy with the way it turned out, which is why I'm babbling on in this super long writer's note.**

**….I'm going to stop now.**


	43. Chapter 43

Desmond finds Rebecca and Shaun camping in a chair by the last gate at the end of the terminal.

Shaun glances up from his magazine. "How long does it take to go to the bathroom?" he asks. "You've been gone half an hour."

"Sorry," Desmond says. "I... wasn't feeling well." Actually, it's taken him a while to find them- he sort of regrets not asking Ezio for more specific directions back in the library. Or maybe a gate number.

"You're not going to fall over again, are you?" Shaun asks.

"Shaun!" Rebecca smacks him on the arm. "Oh, Desmond- your dad went to look for you, did you run into him on the way back?"

"Oh. Uh-" Ezio and Altair had mentioned an encounter with his dad when they were borrowing his body. Altair had said it was awkward and ended badly. Desmond had said that was okay, most of the conversations he'd ever had with his father had ended up pretty much the same way. "No," he says. "I didn't see him."

A voice crackles over the intercom, rattling off some announcement in Italian. "Did you catch any of that?" Rebecca asks Shaun.

"No," Shaun scowls. "But I swear, if the plane's been delayed again..."

Rebecca sighs. "I'm going to see if I can find out what time we're supposed to be leaving."

She wanders off, and Desmond steals her seat. "So..." he says. "Where are we going?"

"New York," Shaun says. "The apple wasn't completely useless. You know, before we managed to lose it." Desmond shifts uncomfortably, but doesn't say anything. "After you blacked out, back in the Colloseum, we did get some directions. And-"

"And what?" For what might be the first time, Desmond sees a look on Shaun's face that isn't boredom or annoyance. It's concern. Or fear, maybe. "Seriously, Shaun, what's the matter?"

"It's nothing," Shaun says. "It must have just been a- vision, or something. From the apple. Rebecca saw it too, so it's not just me going crazy-"

"What did you see?" Desmond asks.

"Altair," says Shaun. "He spoke to us, actually."

Desmond sighs- Altair had barely mentioned the incident when they talked. Somehow, they've all managed to forget that for most people, time travel is abnormal. And Altair had only been there a few minutes at most...

"You think I'm crazy," Shaun says.

"I'm the one that just spent seventeen days in a coma," Desmond says. He can barely believe it's only been seventeen days, but that's what the calendar says.

"Hey, guys-" Rebecca calls, hurrying back over to them. "So, the flight got canceled, but then the time got moved back up and we're boarding in like five minutes."

"Great," Shaun says. "Did you find Bill?"

"Yea," says Rebecca. "He's going to meet us on the plane."

"Great," Desmond says. "Won't that be fun."

"Just try not to argue with him in the middle of the plane," Rebecca sighs. "The last thing we need is you two getting thrown off the flight."

"Were we that bad last time?" Desmond asks.

"Mostly just loud," Rebecca says. "Come on. Plane's leaving."


	44. Chapter 44

Ezio finds Sofia still waiting when he comes out of the keep. She smiles at him, but there's worry in her face. "Are you alright?" she asks. "You were gone a long time."

He doesn't answer, because he hasn't decided if he's alright or not. Instead he says, "I'm sorry I made you wait."

"It's alright," she says. "I know you went because it was important to you."

"It was," he agrees. "But not in the way I was expecting."

"Tell me about it," she says.

"I..." for a moment, he hesitates. He's kept his secrets for so long, it's hard to imagine a life without lies. But this is the woman he's fallen in love with. And he's already told her about the assassins, and their creed. And she's still here. "Sofia, when I went in there, I thought I could give up the life of an assassin. I wanted to. I'm getting too old for this."

"But?" she prompts. "I can tell there's a but."

"But my story is one of many," Ezio says. "And the part I have to play here is over, but there are always other stories."

"I don't understand," says Sofia. "What are you talking about?"

And so he tells her. Under the shadow of the ancient assassins' stronghold, he empties himself of secrets and lies. He offers Sofia the truth, because he can't think of a way to keep lying and still claim to love her. When he's done, he waits while she considers everything he's said.

"Are you sure you're not just crazy?" she asks, after a while.

"Mostly sure," Ezio says.

"Hmm." She gives him a long, appraising look. "Ezio, do you love me?"

"I do," he says.

"Well then that works out nicely," Sofia says. "Because I love you too. I'm not so sure about these others, yet. But we'll work something out."

"Thank you," Ezio says, and he means it. But he means so much more than the words can express. He's spent his whole life chasing revenge. More than three decades, spent in the pursuit of death. And he doesn't regret his actions. He believes that he's done the best with what he was given, and that's always been enough for him. But now- now there's a chance to really live.

There's Desmond and Altair, still fighting for the cause Ezio has given his life for. And he's more than ready to help them, in any way he can. But there's also Sofia, who he's ready to spend the rest of his life with. He can already tell this isn't going to be an easy relationship. Given the unusual circumstances, there's really no way it could be. But it's more than he's ever had before.

**-/-**

**Ladies and Gentlemen, I present: The reason I don't write romance.**

**But no seriously. Here, have a filler chapter because I wanted to show that yes, Ezio will still be in this story, but the whole Sofia thing is still going on. I thought about skipping it, but then I thought, nah, there doesn't need to be a weird grandfather paradox thing going on with Desmond here.**


	45. Chapter 45

"We're here."

it was the first time any of them have spoken in nearly an hour, and so it takes Desmond a second or two to realize that, yes, the van has stopped, and they're here. Wherever here is. He glances out the window, and sees they're pretty much in the middle of nowhere. There's some trees. A shallow cave. Pretty much no signs of humans.

"Where's here?" Desmond asks.

"Turin, New York," Rebecca says. The group climbs out of the van, stretching tired limbs after hours of sitting in the same place.

"And... what's over here?" Desmond asks.

"Hopefully something that's going to help us," Rebecca says. "The apple only told us where we should go. Not why."

The four of them head into the cave, which is the only place around that seems worth checking out. It doesn't go very deep before ending abruptly in a much graffitied wall. There's an indentation there, and Shaun says, "That looks like it's about the right size for the apple."

"Too bad we don't have one anymore," William snaps, glaring at Desmond.

"Hey," he says, holding up his hands defensively. "I was in a coma when you lost it. Don't blame me."

"It picked you as a host, though," says William. "Unless you're going to tell me you just glow naturally, now."

"What?" Desmond realizes they're all staring at him, and that his skin is definitely lighting up. "Oh."

"That's actually pretty weird," Shaun says. "Do you think maybe you could stop doing it?"

"I would if I could," Desmond says, and makes a mental note to ask Altair for some tips the next time they have a chance to talk. It's strange to not have Altair or Ezio in his head or nearby, and he shakes his head at how quickly something so strange has become normal.

"This is fantastic," William says. "We come all the way here from Italy, and now we're stuck, because we don't have the apple anymore."

"We'll figure something out," Rebecca says. "Maybe there's something in the animus..."

"We don't need more memories," says William. "We need the apple."

"Maybe," says Desmond. He crosses the space between himself and the cave wall, positioning himself so he's right in front of the place where the apple is supposed to go. "Or maybe not."

"What-" Shaun starts to ask, but Rebecca quickly shushes him. Desmond barely notices, because he's too focused on the feeling of the apple inside him. He knows it's possible to work with the apple, and he knows the apple is supposed to act as some sort of key, or a trigger here. He closes his eyes, and tries to picture the energy from the apple inside him flowing outward and into the door.

At first, nothing happens. But just when Desmond is starting to feel ridiculous, standing in front of a stone wall with his eyes clamped shut, he feels the barest traces of something start to trickle out of him, like water from a dripping faucet. In a few minutes, the leak has turned to a stream and then a flood. He hears Rebecca gasp, and opens his eyes.

Almost immediately, he regrets it. His skin is glowing brightly, and patterns of lines and shapes move beneath them in a complicated dance that he can neither follow nor understand. And between his cupped hands, he holds what looks like the shadow of the apple inside him. It's only halfway solid, as insubstantial as smoke, but when he presses it to the hole in the wall, it slides into place with a satisfying click, and a moment later, the wall slides upward, revealing a long, dark passage ahead.

The light fades abruptly from Desmond's skin, and the shadow apple vanishes. Desmond lets out a long breath, and when he moves forward into the cave, he staggers a little.

"You okay?" Rebecca calls from behind him.

"Yea," he says, trying to sound like the trick with the apple hasn't left him exhausted. "The ground's not too level here, though."

They head deeper in, and find new marvels at every step- precursor technologies they don't understand, dark and dead until Desmond finds a battery, and some of the wonders around them start to light up. Desmond can feel the apple inside him reacting, pulsing gently like a heartbeat, stirring in anticipation. Anticipation for what, he doesn't know, and doesn't want to. At the far side of the room, they come to another wall, this one equipped with a countdown.

"December 21, 2012," Shaun says. "That's what it's counting down to."

"What is it about that date?" Rebecca asks. "It's the Abstergo satellite launch, but this place looks way too old to be tied up in that."

"It's the end of the world."

Desmond doesn't realize the words are his until the other three turn to look at him. "What does that mean?" Shaun demands.

"I don't know." Desmond rubs his head with the heel of his hand. "I think being in here is sort of waking the apple up." He can feel it whispering things in the back of his mind, and it's not at all the same as sharing a head with Ezio or Altair. The apple isn't a person, and it doesn't feel like one. It's different, somehow. Lifeless. Cold. A machine.

"And it's telling you things?" his father asks.

"Sort of," Desmond says.

"Well, just try to keep a hold on it," William says. "If this countdown is right, we don't have much time until..." he hesitates, glancing at Desmond. "Until the end of the world. Let's start moving the supplies down."

He says more after that, but Desmond isn't listening anymore. Something else has grabbed his attention, and this time it's not the apple. Not three feet from him, a man he doesn't know has suddenly materialized from nowhere. He has the usual ghostly, half transparent look that people seem to get when they're in the wrong time, but Desmond has never seen this man before. They stare at each other.

"Desmond!" Shaun yells.

"Huh?"

"Didn't you hear me?"

"Sorry," Desmond says. "No."

"I've been yelling."

"I said no," Desmond repeats. "What did you want?"

And then everything goes black.


	46. Chapter 46

Haytham's hanging off a balcony when the vision hits him. For a minute, he's somewhere else, somewhere diametrically different from the theater he'd just been in. There's a stranger barely five feet away just ogling at him. Haytham looks back at him, cautious, not quite sure what to make of the situation or this stranger. There are other people around, but Haytham knows instinctively that they're not the important ones here. They don't even look at him; Haytham's not sure they even know he's there. But the man in front of him knows.

They stare at each other until one of the others yells "Desmond!" and the stranger turns away. As soon as they break eye contact, the world around Haytham snaps back to reality, and suddenly he's hanging onto the balcony again, still in the same moment as when he left. The words of the play behind him pick up exactly where they left off, the gentle laughter from the audience continues, uninterrupted.

He manages not to fall through sheer instinct. He has no idea what just happened, or if it's going to happen again. He shakes his head; it doesn't matter. What he knows for sure is that if he stays where he is for too much longer, someone's going to look up and see him there. He's no fool. It's the theater. Of course there's someone down there, bored and looking for something to distract him. Haytham grits his teeth and starts moving again. Everything else can wait.

The assassin is exactly where Haytham expects him to be. And the kill goes exactly as expected as well. The surprise comes after Haytham's taken the key off the body, as he turns around to leave. There's a sudden pressure inside his skull, like someone's just hit him in the back of the head. He lifts a hand, feeling for an injury that isn't there.

The pain throbs a few times, and then fades into nothingness. Physically, there's nothing wrong. But he knows there's something wrong.

Not wrong. Different.

But there's still a dead man just behind him, and he knows he needs to leave before anyone discovers it. He can figure out what's going on later. He's moving more slowly than he should. There's something holding him back, and he's thinking too slowly, reacting in ways that aren't natural. Everything's too bright, and too loud. He's just stumbling along now, part of the crowd as they flee. Someone's already raised the alarm, and he knows he needs to get out before any assassins hear about what happened, and coming looking for him.

He needs to leave, but he can barely walk. The noise of the crowd is too loud, and everything around him is too bright-

The world shatters into a thousand pieces, and Haytham feels his mind flip inside out, like a piece of rubber snapping back. There's nothing left of the theater, just empty space, stretching on forever. He's never felt this out of control. Because he _isn't_ in control. There's just enough time to realize that, before he sits up, way too quickly, panting and digging his nails into the palms of his hands.

Not his hands. Someone else's. He's not in his body, and he's not the one moving. He's just along for the ride. And even though it's not his body, he can feel the pain. His head's going to explode, it's the most pain he's ever felt, and he's not exactly a stranger to the feeling.

"Desmond!" Someone yells, and Haytham feels his eyes open. He's in the same strange room as before, from when he was hanging onto the balcony.

"I can't-" the words won't come out on the first try. "I can't sync, we're too different."

"Don't be ridiculous," says another voice- Haytham can't see who it is, because the body he's in has its head buried in its hands, as if blinding himself is going to help anything.

_"Idiot," _Haytham thinks, but no one's listening.

"He's your ancestor," the voice continues. "That means you can sync with him. End of story. And whatever made you start bleeding into him- right here and right now- it's got to be because it's important!"

"I can't!" Haytham feels himself jump to his feet, turning to glare at the other speaker. "I don't know. I think I'm just too used to assassins. This one's a templar, and it's like... his whole world view, everything, it's completely different-"

"Hold on, templar?"

"Yes!"

"How do you know that?"

He doesn't answer. Just shakes his head, and winces from the pain. "Shit, this hurts," he says. "Shit."


	47. Chapter 47

For the first time in a long time, Desmond isn't sure what to do. He feels as helpless and as hopeless as he did during his very first time in the animus. Haytham's mind is closed and locked, and he can't get in. Trying to sync with him is like trying to sync with a locked door. All the thoughts, memories, emotions- everything he's used to reading so easily in Altair and Ezio is hidden from him in Haytham.

He doesn't want to argue with his father. He just wants to sit perfectly still and try not to let his brain fall apart as he and Haytham move in different directions. "Desmond," Someone says, and for a second he tenses up, thinking it's his dad again. He doesn't need to deal with this right now. "Desmond," the voice says again, and Altair moves to stand right in front of Desmond, resting his hands on Desmond's hunched shoulders. "Listen to me."

"How long have you been here?" Desmond asks, his voice slurring a little. He's tired.

"A little while," Altair says. His voice is calm, and even though Desmond can hear the note of concern there, he's grateful for the attempt. "Listen. Do you remember the first time we spoke?"

"In the field?" Desmond says.

"Right," Altair says. "The one in your head."

"Who are you talking to?" William demands, but Desmond ignores him.

"You need to go back there," Altair says. "Now. It's the quickest way I can think of to get you two talking, and you need to work this out. Now."

"I can't sync with him," Desmond says.

"Then you need to try harder," says Altair. Desmond feels something drip from his nose, and reaches up to wipe a trickle of blood away. "Promise me you're going to try, alright?"

"I can't-"

"Don't tell me you can't," Altair snaps. "Tell me you'll try."

"Fine," Desmond says. "I'll try." He's been struggling to keep his eyes open, but now he lets them close. He feels himself fall, almost in slow motion, and then someone's hands lifting him back to the animus. Again. He's getting more than a little sick of blacking out and being carried to the animus, but he can only feel the annoyance dimly.

When he opens his eyes again, he's in the middle of a field, his head doesn't hurt, and Haytham's standing next to him, looking like he might be sick. Desmond's still trying to get his bearings when suddenly he's on his back, a blade pressed against his throat.

"I want to know what's going on," Haytham says. "Right now."

"Get off me," Desmond says, and he has to try very hard to keep himself from fighting back. He's very aware that they're inside his head right now, and he's not sure what would happen if one of them were to seriously hurt the other. He doesn't think it would be good.

"Who are you?" Haytham asks. He doesn't move.

"Maybe I could answer if you didn't have your blade on my throat," Desmond says.

Haytham stares at him for a long time, sizing him up maybe, or trying to guess his intentions. Finally, he nods and backs away.

"Okay." Desmond stands up, careful to keep a safe distance away. He doesn't trust Haytham, and he doesn't like having a stranger in his head. It's different from Ezio or Altair. He can read their thoughts and feelings, and he can understand who they are. Haytham is different. Closed off. Desmond can skim a few surface thoughts- enough to know his name, and basically nothing else. Everything else he can tell about the man are facts he can tell just by looking- he wouldn't even know he was a templar if not for eagle vision.

"I'm waiting."

Desmond isn't sure what to say. He doesn't want to tell Haytham everything that's going on, but he's also not sure how much more they'll be seeing of each other. Eventually, he settles on the bare minimum of truth.

As quickly as he can, he describes the animus and abstergo, leaving out assassins and templars altogether. He explains the animus- as much as he can explain it, anyway. It doesn't help that he barely understands the technology himself. He also does his best to skate over why anyone would want to go through another person's genetic memories in the first place.

"I don't want you in my head," Haytham says, when Desmond's finished.

"That's great," Desmond says. "I don't really want to be there. And trust me, if I had any choice, I wouldn't be."

"So this is going to keep happening." Haytham sighs.

"I'll try to keep out of your head as much as I can," Desmond says. He's not sure how well he'll be able to stick to that promise. Maybe, if he can convince the others not to put him into any more of Haytham's memories, he'll be able to keep the templar out of the Desmond-Altair-Ezio potluck of confusion. Maybe not. He has no idea.

"Fine," Haytham says.

"But I don't have that much control over it," Desmond says. "And... you might end up in my head sometimes, too."

"Like what happened earlier," Haytham says.

"Pretty much, yea."

"Alright, then." Haytham pinches the bridge of his nose, and gives Desmond a look, like he suspects he's actively trying to make his life difficult. "I try not to make it a habit to deal with assassins, but in this case I think I'll have to make an exception."

So trying to keep the assassins out of that story had been pretty much pointless. Of course, if Desmond can tell Haytham was a templar through eagle vision, there's no reason his ancestor can't have done the same.

"What's your deal?" Desmond asks.

"Neither of us can control this," Haytham says. "Correct?"

"Yea." Maybe someday, after enough practice with the apple. But not right now.

"You said, earlier, that you couldn't... 'sync'..." he pauses on the unfamiliar word, and Desmond nods. "You couldn't sync with me because we're too different."

"You're a templar," Desmond says.

"And you're an assassin," Haytham says.

Desmond nods, surprised by how confident he is in the answer. A few months ago, he hadn't known what side he was on. And a few months before that, he'd been hiding in New York, convinced he'd never have to deal with any of his parents' crazy conspiracy theories again. Somehow, in that time, he's become an assassin. Not just the skills, but the mindset.

He notices Haytham is glaring at him again, and says- "Two people with completely different worldviews, trying to move in different directions in the same body. It's just not going to work."

"Alright," Haytham says. "If it's a choice between losing my mind and working with you, I think I can moderate my actions while you're in my head."

"Well- okay then," Desmond says. Somehow, this is not the way he expected this conversation to go. "Working together instead of working against each other. It should work. I think. Maybe."

"Yes." Haytham offers a thin smile. "You sound extremely confident."

Desmond has to try very hard not to roll his eyes. There's something about Haytham's condescending tone that reminds him of his dad. "Well, here's hoping it never comes up," he says.

Haytham nods. "I think we can agree on that, at least," he says. "I'll be perfectly happy if we never have to speak again."


	48. Chapter 48

Altair waits next to Desmond the entire time he's in the animus. It's sort of funny, actually. Or it would have been, if everything hadn't been so serious. The very first time he's able to use the apple to travel through time on _his _terms, and the first thing he sees is Desmond losing it.

So now he waits, and hopes that Desmond will come out of the animus better than when he went in. He feels helpless, because other than what he heard Desmond say earlier, he doesn't know what's going on.

"I'm telling you, Bill," Shaun says. "Something's wrong."

Altair looks up as the two of them draw close to Desmond.

"Of course something's wrong," says William. "He's bleeding, Shaun. It was just a matter of time until he started losing his grasp on reality."

Rebecca makes a little noise from where she's furiously tapping away at her computer, and when Altair looks at her, he sees the disappointed look that no one else notices.

"You could try being a little more human about it," Shaun says, and he sounds angry. "He is your son."

"Not right now," William says. "Right now he's an assassin. And he's the only one here that can get us the information we need. Anyway, I'm surprised you care so much."

"There's not a lot of us left," Shaun says.

"So?" William asks.

"We're scattered all over the world," Shaun goes on. "We know the names of people in other cells, maybe we meet a few of them. But mostly it's just hearing that someone in Egypt's been killed, or a cell in Asia's been wiped out. You curse the templars, but the whole time, you're just glad your people are still safe."

"We're fighting a war, Shaun," William snaps. "And we're losing. Of course people are going to die That's what happens in a war!"

"I KNOW!" Shaun yells.

William, Rebecca, and Altair all stare at Shaun, who turns red. Shaun never yells- he just gets more sarcastic.

"I know the templars are stronger than we are," Shaun says. "And I know we're apparently staring at the end of the world. But the assassins have come close to dying out before, but we've always come back." he jabs a finer in the general direction of Desmond and the animus. "You've seen the footage from Altair and Ezio's lives. Two of the greatest assassins the world has ever known, rebuilding the order from the ground up. And you know what the difference is between assassins then and assassins now?"

"Enlighten me," says William.

"The assassins have always been strongest when we act together," Shaun says. "I'm a historian. It's my job to notice patterns like that. We're a brotherhood. There's a reason for that. Besides-" They both look over at Desmond, who has started to move a little, as if he's about to wake. "You're kind of being a dick."

William glares at Shaun, then walks away without a word. After a few seconds, Rebecca walks over and they have a quiet conversation. Altair can tell by the set of their bodies, the way they never quite look each other in the eye, that this is just flirting. "You did good," Rebecca says quietly, and Altair turns away. He doesn't have any business listening to this.

When Desmond wakes up a few minutes later, he looks a lot more in control than he did before. "Feeling better?" Altair asks. Desmond nods, but doesn't say anything with the others nearby.

"Hey!" Rebecca says. "Desmond's back!"

"Have a nice nap while we were working?" Shaun asks, already back to his normal, in your face manner.

"Shaun!"

"What, Rebecca?"

While they're distracted, Desmond turns to Altair and says, under his breath, "He is really starting to get on my nerves."

"I don't know," Altair says. "I think he's growing on me."


	49. Chapter 49

Ezio wakes up in the twenty first century after falling asleep in the sixteenth. He's leaning back against a stone wall in what looks like a futuristic cave somewhere. His back has gone stiff, so he stands and stretches, looking around as he does.

The usual equipment- a host of computers, the animus, a random collection of technology he can't name- are scattered around the cave. But no one's working on any of it. Instead, Ezio spots Desmond, his dad, Rebecca, and Shaun gathered around the far end of the room, arguing over what looks like a wall. Altair's there too, watching him take in the surroundings.

"This place is new," Ezio says once he has his bearings.

Altair nods. "You missed a lot."

Ezio shrugs. "It's not like any of us can control where we end up, right?"

"I used the apple to get here," Altair says. There's a smug expression on his face that he's not doing a very good job of trying to hide.

Ezio raises his eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"Yea."

"So that's what you meant when you said I missed a lot?" Ezio asks. He knows this is a big deal- Altair's been trying to get the apple working for as long as he's known him. Probably longer.

"Oh." Altair glances over his shoulder, back at the other assassins, still arguing over the wall. "No. There's been some progress with the animus. Another ancestor."

"Anyone interesting?" Ezio asks.

"A templar."

"Seriously?" For some reason, that thought's never even occurred to him. "So there's going to be a templar in our heads at some point?"

"I don't think so," Altair says. "Desmond and Haytham worked something out, I guess."

"And Haytham's the templar?" Ezio asks.

Altair nods. "Also, Shaun and William are arguing, and apparently there's a key they need to find to get farther into the temple-" he gestures at the other four assassins. "And find out why being here is supposed to help save the world."

"I really did miss a lot," Ezio says. "So this key they need to find- it's first civilization, right?" He hasn't spent much time in the future, but he thinks it's pretty obvious that this place is precursor, and not twenty first century human. "Can you do something with the apple?"

"No," Altair says. "I don't know how. I think Desmond did something similar to open the front doors, but this is more... detailed, I think. If he was able to open this one, they wouldn't still be over there arguing about it."

"We'll figure something out," Ezio says. "We always do." It's unexpectedly exciting to be back among assassins. He's been living more or less quietly with Sophia in his own time, and while it's not a bad life, he's never been quite happy staying still.

"The last we know of the key, Haytham had it," Altair says. "He's not going to be willing to help a group of assassins."

"But he can't have it now," Ezio says. "He's one of Desmond's ancestors- how far back?"

"Mid seventeen hundreds," says Altair.

"So he's been dead for ages," Ezio says dismissively. "Someone else must have had it between then and now."

"We have no idea who, though," Altair points out. "And the only way to find out who had it after Haytham is for Desmond to go back into the animus and look through more memories, which opens up everything in Desmond's head for Haytham to read."

Ezio nods. "There's a lot we don't want templars knowing," he agrees. "It would be too dangerous to have Desmond in his head."

Altair bites his lip. "But..."

"But what?"

"He must have kids," Altair says. "Otherwise we wouldn't have Desmond. The kid might know where it ends up. It's hard to keep secrets from people you live with."

"Not that hard," Ezio says. His own father had kept the entire assassin's order a secret from his whole family until he died. "And even if the kid does know, he'll probably going to be a templar too. It tends to run in families. It would be just as dangerous for Desmond-"

"I'm not saying we bring Desmond into this at all," Altair says. "I used the apple to get here. I think I can use it to bring us... there."

"To meet the kid," Ezio says.

"Right," Altair says. "I haven't figured out how to get inside someone's head yet, either. So we don't have to worry about him or her finding out anything from us."

Ezio looks at him, trying to think of an argument. Somehow, his life has gotten to the point where this seems like a perfectly valid option. "Alright," he says. "How do we do this?"

"Like this," Altair says, and for a second nothing happens. Then his body pulses with light from the apple, just once, and when it fades, they're in the middle of a forest that looks nothing like the cave they were in a few seconds before.

"Oh," Ezio says. "Good job." He takes a deep breath. "Let's go do this."

**-/-**

**So... that was a chapter. Surprisingly hard to get everything worked out in a way that makes sense. Probably didn't help that I tried writing it after an all day quidditch tournament... and that's how I learned that writing time travel when I'm exhausted is a bad idea. I definitely spent more time fixing it today than writing it yesterday. Anyway, here's me, really hoping it makes sense now. It's pretty much gotten to the point where I can't even tell, because in my brain everything works perfectly. :/**

**TL;DR: I really like to complain. :P**


	50. Chapter 50

It doesn't take them long to find the kid- all they have to do is follow the sounds of raised voices. Altair hears them first- too distant to make out what they're saying, but he can tell they're angry. He points the direction to Ezio, and they run toward the voices. They haven't gone very far at all when they hear a new voice, and this one belongs to a child.

"Do you smell smoke?" Ezio asks.

Altair nods, and a few seconds later they come to the source of the voices- four men surrounding a child on the ground- and stop.

"I don't like this," Ezio says.

Altair doesn't either, but for the moment, he says nothing. One of the men is talking, and he doesn't much care for what he's saying.

"And so I spare you, that you may carry word to your people. Let them know the sooner we are given what we seek, the sooner you can return to your pathetic, empty lives. A fair trade, is it not?"

The child looks up at the man, and there's no fear on his face. "What is your name?"

"Charles Lee." The man has his back to Altair, but he can hear the smirk in his voice. "Why?"

"So I can find you," says the child, and Lee laughs.

"I look forward to it," he says, and turns away, gesturing for the others to follow him. The child looks up, and his eyes meet Altair's. Up until now, Altair wouldn't have guessed the kid is afraid at all. But there's fear in his eyes, and something else, too. A question, or a plea. _Help me._

Time almost seems to freeze. There's no question that this is the boy they came to find, but for now, finding answers is the last thing on Altair's mind. There's something not right about four grown men threatening a child.

"Altair-" Ezio says, but Altair isn't listening. He's concentrating on something else.

There are times when the apple can be frustratingly difficult to work with. Unresponsive. Rough. And then there are times where it's almost frightening, how well he can work with it. The day he killed Al Mualim was one of those times. And so is this moment.

He doesn't think twice- it's a snap decision, to help this boy, and under any other circumstances it wouldn't have worked. But for some reason, everything works this time, and no sooner has he decided what to do than the apple roars to life, responding to his thoughts and needs.

"Altair!" Ezio yells, but it's too late. Between one blink and the next, he's out of his body and inside the head of the child-

_Ratonhnhaké:ton_ -

in control, but only just, and there's a whole storm of confusion coming from the kid, but Altair blocks it out.

All this happens in one single, frozen moment. And then one of the men swings for Altair with the butt of a rifle, and years of instincts kick in. He's not stupid; he knows he's just put himself in the body of a very small, very frightened child, who barely comes up to the waist of the shortest of the four men.

So he doesn't fight back, just ducks out of the way so the musket slams into the ground next to his head. The man frowns and pulls back to swing again, but before he can-

"Come on," Lee snaps. He's already turned away, isn't even paying attention as his friend tries to murder a child. The man shrugs and joins in the group as they walk away, having- so they assume- made their point.

Ratonhnhaké:ton doesn't take long to get over the shock of having someone else in his brain. Maybe its because he's a child that he barely stops to question it- by the time the men are out of sight among the trees, he's shouting at Altair, half in words and half in pure emotion, terror and panic and suddenly there's the scent of smoke in the air.

Altair runs. Ratonhnhaké:ton's mind is open to him, and he reads his memories as he goes. By the time he comes to Ratonhnhaké:ton's village, he understands the fear burning through the boy's mind.

_"Please," _Ratonhnhaké:ton says, and Altair can feel the desperation in the word. _"Find my mother."_

The air is thick with smoke, and nearly fire roars from all around, but Altair has been through flames before. He's seen a lot that Ratonhnhaké:ton hasn't, and he knows what to do. He's never seen this village before, but Ratonhnhaké:ton is familiar with it- to him, it's home, and Altair uses his knowledge to find Ratonhnhaké:ton's mother, trapped between a half burned building and a fallen in roof.

He feels surprisingly calm, so calm it almost surprises himself. But he's been through worse situations, and even Ratonhnhaké:ton's panic doesn't manage to pierce his calm. Because he knows the only way this woman is getting out of here is if he manages not to panic.

The wood pinning her down is too heavy for him to shift as he is now, and she's injured, and in a bad position anyway. But it's not a question of force, it's a question of where to _apply_ that force. A child wouldn't know that. Altair does.

Still, they barely make it out before the whole structure collapses behind them, and Altair has to admit- he's lucky.

It's a very long time- several hours- before Altair finds himself alone again. Ratonhnhaké:ton has somehow managed to fall asleep inside his own head, and Altair is sitting against the wall of one of the few unburnt buildings in the village, trying to sort out for himself why (and _how- _he's not sure it's something he'll be able to do again any time soon) he risked everything to help this child. The best answer he can come up with isn't an answer at all- it's just the memory of Ratonhnhaké:ton looking past Lee, straight at him, wordlessly asking for help.

But he's helped all he can- for now, anyway. He's not sure where the plan he and Ezio came up with stands now- Ratonhnhaké:ton may be Haytham's son, but it doesn't seem likely that he'll have any information about the key. And anyway, Altair's been inside his head for the past several hours. The whole point of coming themselves instead of letting Desmond do it inside the animus was to keep him from finding out about the time travel and the body sharing.

Their best hope, Altair decides, is that Ratonhnhaké:ton is too young to understand or remember. But the longer he stays, the less chance there is of that happening. So he slips quietly back into his own body, letting Ratonhnhaké:ton drop gently to the ground, still sleeping more or less peacefully. Altair is sure he'll have nightmares for a while, but they could have been worse- they could have been his mother's death.

There's no more he can do to help- so instead he leaves to find Ezio and take them out of the eighteenth century.

**-/-**

**Okay, yea, I didn't let Ziio die in this story. It's probably going to come back to bite me at some point, but... ah well. I'm kind of curious to find out what happens. (Because seriously, I have no idea. It's not like the characters ever listen to me). So yea, I guess tune in next time to see if/how this changes things?**

**Also- chapter fifty. :O I was not expecting this story to get so long or for people to actually read it. So thanks to everyone that left the 89 reviews (good, bad, at least you cared enough to say something, so thanks either way), the 47 people that fav'd and the 46 people that put the story on alert. You guys are cool.**


	51. Chapter 51

It's a very tense evening in the first civilization temple. Nobody's really talking much- Desmond's upset because no matter how much he argues it, there's no way around the fact that they need the key that Haytham has, and there's no way of finding it without going back in the animus. His dad and Shaun aren't talking to each other for some reason, and Rebecca's in front of her computer, trying to give the programming a boost to make up for Desmond's appallingly low sync rate with Haytham.

Apart from Rebecca, the rest of them are sat, more or less clustered together, around a set of microwaved dinners. It's very quiet. The only sounds are normal mealtime noises- chewing, and plastic forks scraping plates- and music leaking from Rebecca's headphones.

And then there's a faint noise, one that only Desmond hears, and Ezio and Altair appear from nowhere. He glances up at them, gives a mental shrug, and looks back down. This isn't exactly unusual at this point.

He reaches for a cup, takes a drink, then glances up again, and does an involuntary spit take.

His father gives him a can-you-be-any-more-of-a-child look, but Desmond ignores him, because he's too busy staring at the other end of the room, where Ezio's just punched Altair in the face. "I'm just going to-" no one's listening, and he can't think of anything to say anyway, so he just finishes, sort of lamely- "Go over there."

Shaun shrugs, but no one else answers, and Desmond makes a hasty escape. As soon as he's far enough away that he doesn't think the others are going to hear, Desmond demands, "What are you doing?"

"Ask him," Ezio says. "Because I have no idea."

Desmond turns to Altair, whose nose is bleeding profusely. "Okay..." he says. "What's going on?"

"It wasn't-"

"There's a difference," Ezio interrupts, apparently unable to stay quiet. "Between what we agreed to do and what you actually did."

"What did you agree?" Desmond asks. "Where were you?"

Altair gives him what sounds like a very quick version of a more complicated story, which Ezio listens to silently until the very end. Then he says, "You shouldn't have been inside his head. That was the whole point of us going."

"I had to."

"Why?" Ezio demands. "This is probably going to end up just like the animus. Being inside that kid's head means he's going to end up in ours. You didn't have to drag him into this. And you shouldn't have made that decision on your own."

"You didn't see his face," Altair says. "He asked for help."

"He didn't know the whole story!" Ezio shouts. "You can't just drag a kid into all this!"

"They were going to hurt him!" Altair says. He's not loud, but there's something forceful in his voice that makes it hard not to listen to what he has to say. "Alright? Forget about the key for a minute. There were four armed men beating a boy. And if they'd killed him-"

"They wouldn't have," Ezio says. "Or Desmond wouldn't be here."

"That's not how it works," Altair says.

"So you're saying that if you hadn't been there, that boy would have died," Ezio says.

"I'm saying he might have," says Altair. "I mean, you would never have lived at all if Desmond hadn't been there when you were born."

There's a very long silence, and for a minute, Desmond isn't sure that Ezio isn't going to just punch Altair again. Instead, he lets out a long sigh, and says, "You're right." It isn't quite an apology, but it's enough. Altair nods, and the tension drains away abruptly. "So. What do we do now?"

Desmond says, "We still need to find the key, and looking for it with..." he hesitates, glances at Altair.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton," Altair says.

"Isn't really a bad idea," Desmond continues. "I'm going back in the animus tomorrow to look through more of Haytham's memories."

"Why?" Ezio asks.

"Because apparently I don't get a choice," Desmond says. "But if I can convince them to send me into..."

"Ratonhnhaké:ton," Altair repeats, emphasizing each syllable. "It's not that hard."

"Yes it is," says Ezio.

"Anyway," Desmond continues. "I think I'd probably be better off with him than with Haytham. It's worth trying to convince them, anyway."

**-/-**

**I am really sorry if you have this story on alert and just got flooded with update notifications- I accidentally deleted a few chapters and then kind of panicked and made it worse. So, I'm not sure what FFN actually sends out alerts for, but if they do it when chapters get shifted around, you probably just got about twenty notices. My bad, sorry. :/**


	52. Chapter 52

Ratonhnhaké:ton is thirteen years old when he next sees the strange man that saved his mother's life. It's been nearly a decade since then, but Ratonhnhaké:ton hasn't gone a single day without thinking about it. He knows there's no reason for anyone to believe him, but that's never bothered him. He knows his own mind, and he's certain that there's nothing wrong with it.

What bothers him is not knowing _why _or _how. _For a few hours, there was another person in his head. The memories of that day are never going to leave him, but they're frustratingly vague. He remembers crouching on the ground, terrified and trying to sound brave anyway. He remembers looking up, past Lee, and straight into the face of a stranger who hadn't been there a second before. He remembers knowing- in a way he wouldn't understand until later, after mastering his other sight- that this man doesn't want to hurt him.

He remembers looking up, asking for help without words. And then a bright glow, and a whole world opening up in his mind. He was only four at the time, and scared, and most of what he saw in the man's mind he couldn't understand. So for the past ten years, he's been waiting, hoping to see the stranger again. The man's face is burned into his memory, along with the only thing he really remembers from his mind- the name Altair.

One night, just as it starts to get cold out, Ratonhnhaké:ton finds himself restless and unable to sleep. So he leaves the village behind, and takes to the treetops. He's itching to run, so he does, leaping from tree to tree, letting instinct take over and his mind wander. The world blurs around him, and suddenly, midleap, _changes_.

He lands badly, stumbling, but manages not to fall. Then he takes a step and stumbles again, because the place he's in isn't anything like the place he left. He's still outside- and that's the only thing this new place has in common with the place he just left. It's the middle of the day, and he's standing in front of a ring full of kids, probably a few years younger than he is, listening to a man instruct them in weapons. Ratonhnhaké:ton doesn't know the language, but it's pretty obvious.

He takes a few more steps, moving around people that don't seem to notice he's there, half in awe, half confused. He's not paying as much attention as he should be, and that's probably why he doesn't realize he's about to walk into someone until he's halfway to the ground.

_"Watch out," _he hears, but since the words aren't in any language he knows, they don't mean anything to him. The man he ran into offers Ratonhnhaké:ton a hand, but he ignores it and gets up on his own.

Then he freezes, because the man standing in front of him is Altair. "What-"

He doesn't even look surprised, but Ratonhnhaké:ton can't tell if it's because he was expected, or if he's just got an incredibly inexpressive face. "Come on," he says, this time in English. Not his first language, but at least he understands it.

Altair turns and leads Ratonhnhaké:ton away from the ring, into a less crowded area. After a while, he says, "So... here you are." He sighs, and looks up at the sky- apparently for guidance. "I'm not usually the one that has to explain all this."

"Explain what?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asks.

"I'm sorry," Altair says. "But your life's about to get a lot more complicated."


	53. Chapter 53

The next time Desmond gets in the animus, it goes a lot better than the time before. The latest version of the animus makes it even more difficult to hide from his ancestors than it had been in the animus 2.0 with Ezio. Maybe if he'd still been using that technology, Haytham wouldn't have been able to sense him, and everything would have worked out. Maybe, maybe not.

He's barely loaded into the animus when Ratonhnhaké:ton says, tentatively, _"Desmond?"_

_"What?" _Desmond isn't used to his ancestors knowing who he is.

_"Um- sorry,"_ Ratonhnhaké:ton says. _"Altair told me about you."_

_"Oh." _It's really starting to get complicated with this many ancestors running around in different centuries, crossing over, meeting each other. He thinks suddenly of the first time he woke up and realized Altair was in his head- and he'd thought _that _was complicated. _"Did you tell you anything else?"_

_"A lot,"_ Ratonhnhaké:ton says, and Desmond goes poking around until he finds the memories. Ratonhnhaké:ton jerks a little- a nervous movement, like he's trying to shake something off, and Desmond draws back abruptly.

_"Sorry," _he says. _"It's just- habit."_ He and Altair gave up drawing boundaries between their minds a long time ago, and if Ezio cares at all, he's never mentioned it.

Ratonhnhaké:ton shrugs, but Desmond can tell it bothers him, and makes a mental note to go more slowly.

_"Altair said you need to find something," _Ratonhnhaké:ton says. _"A key."_

_"Right," _Desmond says. _"Like this." _He shows Haytham's memory of finding the key to Ratonhnhaké:ton, who flinches again but only nods.

_"I don't know what that is," _he says. _"But you said my father has it."_

_"He did," _Desmond says. _"Maybe... ten, fifteen years ago?" _

_"And you need it to save the world." _Ratonhnhaké:ton doesn't sound skeptical. Mostly just curious, and maybe a little excited. Desmond doesn't even have a chance to answer before he goes on- _"I'm going to help you find it."_

_"You don't have to do that," _Desmond says.

_"Yes I do," _Ratonhnhaké:ton says. _"My father has it."_

And just like that, everything Ratonhnhaké:ton's been keeping back floods into Desmond's mind- feelings and memories, all tied back to a fire, more than ten years ago, and four men who almost killed a terrified child. _"I didn't know those men," _Ratonhnhaké:ton says. _"But when I told my mother about them, she knew who they were. They're friends of my father- he sent them to burn the village down. People died."_

_"So this isn't about the key at all," _Desmond says. _"It's revenge."_

_"Yes."_

Desmond hesitates for all of about three seconds. It doesn't matter what he says here; Ratonhnhaké:ton has already made up his mind, and he's not going to change it just to make Desmond happy. _"Alright," _he says. _"Let's get started."_


	54. Chapter 54

Haytham has nightmares.

Not every night. Not even often. But every time he's sure that he's seen the last of the dreams, out they come again to torment him. He dreams of lifetimes spent in centuries before he was born, and long after he knows he will die, living in places he will never see. The dreams are difficult to understand, muffled and dim, as if he's seeing them from inside a blizzard.

He never remembers much of these dreams by the time he wakes up, but the feelings take a long time to go away. He wakes up angry, or joyful, or restless, with no reason at all to be feeling that way. He knows the feelings must be from the dreams, and for that reason he hates them. He doesn't understand, and he hates not understanding. It means he's out of control, and he can't stand that.

The dreams come just frequently enough to keep him off balance, but not quite frequently enough to be predictable. He starts losing sleep, which- predictably- helps nothing at all. If not for the strangest day of his life, the day a man from the future invaded his mind, he would probably have decided he was going crazy. He's guessed that the dreams are a side effect of that- the way he understands it, connecting to another person's mind isn't the sort of _mistake _that can be undone. And if it's a choice between unsettling dreams or living as a spectator in someone else's head, it's not a hard decision.

But he still can't help but wish there was a third option.

Over the years- over more than fifteen years- Haytham learns to live with the dreams. He hates them, but there's not a lot of options. He never mentions them to anyone, and- apart from a brief time spent with a native woman that ends... far too quickly- there's no one close enough to notice that anything's wrong.

And then one night, he has a dream.

It's not like the other dreams, although Haytham has seen enough of them by now to know that it's from the same source. There's a sort of golden light around everything, but instead of obscuring the world around him, as it normally does, it sharpens things- the colors are clearer, and everything around him seems to almost pulse with that strange, golden light.

The world around him is frozen, one silent moment filled with light.

He looks around, not quite able to resist his curiosity. He's on a ship, in the middle of the ocean. It's clear that the ship has seen rough times. It could use some repairs, and Haytham can smell gunpowder on the air. There's been a battle here, but the men standing on the deck of the ship are clearly celebrating. Someone's brought out a few barrels of rum, and everyone's smiling, laughing- it's a moment he doesn't feel entirely comfortable in.

The light pulses, and the scene around him suddenly jumps into motion. The ship is transformed, vibrant, alive. Someone sings drunkenly from the other side of the deck, and a group of sailors are huddled around a dice game a few feet away. One of them makes a good role, and his friends burst out into drunken cheering.

"Kenway!" someone calls, and Haytham starts, surprised to hear his name. But when he turns to find the man, he sees that the sailor isn't talking to him at all. Instead, his eyes are fixed somewhere just over Haytham's left shoulder, looking at someone near the ship's wheel. "Best damn captain I've ever met!" The men around him cheer, and Haytham turns back to see this other Kenway.

He's a blond man, dirty and bleeding slightly from a cut over one eye. Haytham thinks he looks almost familiar, but he can't place him. So he takes a few steps forward, and- when no one reacts to him at all- walks the rest of the way to the ship's wheel with more confidence.

The captain has his back to Haytham as he climbs the steps toward him, talking to a large black man who looks considerably less drunk than everyone else on board.

"I thought we were looking for something," the man says. "It's your crazy mission, remember?"

"Calm down, Ade," says the captain, and his voice is as almost familiar as his face. "We'll find Roberts."

"The sooner the better," Ade says. "I'll be happy when whole thing is behind us."

"Besides," the captain goes on. "I didn't know that ship was carrying nothing but rum."

"You always know," says Ade.

"Well, at least the crew's happy again," the captain says.

"For now." Ade frowns. "Just be careful, Edward. I don't think I'm the only one getting tired of your fairy stories. And I don't think some of them will stick around as long as I have."

_Edward_. The name hits Haytham like a blow to the gut, and for a second, he can't believe it. He just can't. Because he can believe in meeting complete strangers from the future. Or the past. He can believe in impossible technology that puts him inside the heads of other people. But he can't believe that he's standing two feet away from his dead father.

And he really can't believe he didn't recognize him.

He must have made some sort of noise, because Edward glances over his shoulder, only half paying attention, and then does a double take. "What-"

Haytham forces himself awake and sits up in bed, breathing heavily. He has questions, and as much as he hates to admit it, there's only one person he can go to for answers. And he has no idea where to find Desmond Miles.


	55. Chapter 55

Time passes, and life settles into something that Desmond thinks could almost be normal. Ignoring the animus, and the occasional, involuntary trip into his ancestors' heads, and their all too frequent visits with him. And the occasional, insane rant from Juno. Since nothing she says ever makes sense, Desmond typically tries to ignore her.

Besides, he has other people to worry about, and to his own surprise, his ancestors aren't part of the problem. Altair, now that he has more- not total, but still more- control over the apple, shows up almost every morning. Ezio and Connor (he gives up using his real name when he joins the assassins, and nobody complains because at least it's pronounceable) are less predictable, but still there pretty often. Most days everyone shows up in their own bodies, but it's also not unusual for two or more of them to end up sharing. Still, everything's going smoothly- while Desmond's out of the animus, Altair and Ezio help Connor with his training. And when he's in the animus (meaning that Connor is pulled back to his own time), the other two mostly sit and talk.

So no, even Desmond can't pretend it's totally normal. But nobody's family ever is.

And the real problem isn't any of them. It's his dad. And Shaun, and Rebecca. Things are tense among the four of them, and there's a lot of reasons for that. There's the upcoming end of the world, the recent argument between his dad and Shaun, even the weather. And Desmond knows that his constant secret keeping isn't helping.

He knows they know he's keeping something from them; it's hard to live in a tight space with a group of people without them noticing if something's wrong. And he's spent a lot of time staring at empty spaces and sitting, apparently alone, in weird corners of the temple.

He's actually doing exactly that when Shaun comes looking for him. It's right after an animus session, so Connor is back in the 1700s, leaving only Desmond, Ezio, and Altair. The conversation has ambled around from serious topics to something more like shooting the breeze.

"...but seriously," Desmond says to Altair. "I think you have another fan."

"Great," Altair grumbles, glaring at Ezio. "You're bad enough."

"I'm not-"

"Statue," Altair says. "In your basement." He turns back to Desmond. "What do you mean 'another'?"

"Connor," Desmond says.

"Wait, seriously?" Altair asks.

Desmond glances at Ezio, who's wearing the exact same expression of disbelief as he is. "You didn't notice?" he asks.

And right then- as Desmond's trying not to laugh at the expression on Altair's face- Shaun walks up behind him and asks, "Is this a bad time?"

"What?" Desmond asks.

"You're the one that saved his life when he was a kid," Ezio tells Altair, ignoring Shaun.

"You just looked sort of busy talking to yourself," Shaun says.

"That doesn't mean anything," Altair says.

"I'm not talking to myself," Desmond says, a little more loudly than he probably should, just so he can hear himself over Ezio and Altair arguing.

"You're also the only one he's not worried about when you're in his head," Ezio points out. "When it's me or Desmond, he gets really tense and puts up walls. He trusts you though."

Shaun shrugs. "Whatever you say."

"I hadn't noticed," Altair admits.

"But I mean, if I were hearing voices," Desmond continues, "I think I would definitely not be hearing them now, because I'm trying to have a conversation and that would be really rude."

Ezio and Altair fall silent.

"Right," Shaun says. "Because that doesn't sound like something a crazy person would say. Listen- I've been tracking the batteries that power this place, and I think I've found one in Manhattan. So we're planning a trip out there within the next hour or so. Thought you might want a heads up."

"Thanks," Desmond says, and for a minute or so they both just stand there without saying anything. Then Desmond asks- "Was there something else you wanted to say?"

"Yea, actually," Shaun says. "I just wanted to say that if you're, you know, bleeding, you don't have to hide it. The animus makes people crazy. But you're not helping yourself by cutting everyone out."

"I'm not crazy," Desmond says.

"Yea," Shaun says. "Sure. Then, who exactly were you just talking to?"

"I-" Except there's nothing he can say without proving to Shaun that he _is _crazy. It's not even that he _wants _to keep this secret to himself. Altair and Ezio both have people they've trusted with the secret, and Desmond would have loved to be able to drop the act around the other assassins. He just doesn't know how to make anyone believe him. "Never mind," he finishes. "Manhattan, right?"

"Fine," Shaun says. "When your brain's in a puddle on the ground, don't come complaining to me."

**-/-**

**I really wanted Haytham to show up in this chapter (not that anyone cares, but shh, complaining is fun), but Shaun ended up getting dialogue instead. Oh well. Maybe next time.**


	56. Chapter 56

Realizing that he needs help from Desmond doesn't make the man any easier to find, and Haytham spends nearly a week chasing every lead he can think of. Which, admittedly, isn't much. Even for someone that's spent years searching for the traces of a lost civilization, this is an impossible quest. There is no historical record of anyone claiming to be able to travel in time. Anyone with that particular talent had kept impressively quiet about it.

He has all sorts of resources, left over from the years spent hunting for traces of the first civilization. There are a lot of strange stories in the old papers, the journals, the records he's gathered over the years. But none of them have so much as a mention of time travel. It seems that it was something beyond even their advanced technology.

But there's no way around it. Haytham needs to talk to Desmond, because he needs to see his father again. And it's hard, because he thought he was beyond this. It's been more than thirty years since Edward Kenway died. Haytham was ten years old at the time. He shouldn't still be bothered. He shouldn't.

And he's still not entirely sure why he is. There's a part of him that wants nothing as much as he wants to see his father again. The part of him that spent the first decade of his life idolizing the man. But there's another part that wants answers. He didn't know about the templars and assassins until after Edward died. He still knows hardly anything about what his father did when he was young. He wants to know what his father was doing captaining a ship. He wants to know how he became an assassin. He wants to know a lot of things.

He spends a lot of time thinking about all the things he wants, locked up in his rooms. And in the end, he decides that what he really wants is just five minutes with his father. He wants that more than he's ever wanted anything in his life. It's more important than anything he's done in his life so far. More important even than the cause he's given the whole of his life to.

And from the moment he makes that decision, something very important changes inside of Haytham Kenway. From that moment, his status as a grandmaster of the templars ceases to be the single most important thing about him. Instead, Haytham Kenway becomes a son- a son who doesn't actually understand his father.

And- although Haytham doesn't know it- if there's any kind of person Desmond can sync with, it's a son with father issues.

Which is unfortunate, actually, because when Haytham abruptly moves out of the eighteenth century, and into Desmond's head, it's at the worst possible moment. Haytham has about half a second to realize that it's different this time, because there's no walls between them. He can hear every thought in Desmond's mind, every memory. Then he has another half a second to recognize that he's on top of an impossibly tall building, so high he can't see all of the buildings below him, much less the ground.

Then Desmond realizes he's there. Haytham can feel surprise, and then Desmond takes half a step back-

And falls.


	57. Chapter 57

For some reason, the first thing in his mind- after the shock- is anger. They'd made a deal. He'd promised to stay out of Haytham's head as much as he can, and he's held up his end of that deal. And he's assumed it works both ways. But here's Haytham, all of a sudden, going out of his way to search him out.

And here he is, falling off the edge of a skyscraper in downtown Manhattan like an idiot. He's going to die. After months in the animus, after four different ancestors, he steps too far back and falls off a building. And that's how he's going to die.

"Desmond!" Rebecca yells into his earpiece. "Parachute!"

He instantly feels about twenty times more stupid, and yanks the cord for the parachute. He hears the fabric open behind him, and he instantly goes from helpless free fall to a more controlled glide. He even makes it to the intended roof, although he comes in a little low, slamming into the building so that he's only hanging onto the roof with his arms. He hauls himself up and sits for a second, panting and untangling himself from the parachute cords.

_"What are you doing?" _Haytham demands, and Desmond scowls.

_"Trying not to die," _he says. _"Why are you in my head?"_

_"...I need your help," _Haytham admits.

_"Does this really seem like the best time?" _Desmond growls. He gets to his feet, trying to focus on going after the battery without thinking too loudly about anything he doesn't want his ancestor knowing about. It's probably a lost cause at this point, because for whatever reason, he's synchronizing with Haytham as well as he ever could with any of his other ancestors.

Haytham doesn't say anything, but Desmond can feel him poking through memories. _"Can you not?" _he snaps. _"Look, I'm right in the middle of something. When you're done, we talk about whatever you're here for."_

Inside, the battery is exactly where it's supposed to be. It actually seems a little too easy.

_"Behind you," _Haytham says, and Desmond spins around just in time to block a punch from a blond man who's suddenly appeared there. The man staggers back, and Desmond takes the opportunity to smash the glass surrounding the battery. Haytham sighs loudly, and says, _"Behind you _again_."_

_"Yea, I got it," _says Desmond, and slams into the stranger's head with the hand holding the battery. He falls, and Desmond runs for it before he can get up, or Haytham can complain again. _"Okay," _he says. _"Last time you were in here, you didn't like it anymore than I did. You have until I get out of here to explain what changed. Talk."_

It would have been easier to just go through Haytham's memories, and probably faster, but he's not in the mood to make things easier for Haytham. So he listens while Haytham explains the dreams. Then, he explains the dream of his father. His voice stays steady and emotionless throughout, but Desmond can feel the emotions churning under the calm demeanor- worry, guilt, fear, sadness- they're not the emotions he's been expecting at all.

_"So," _Haytham says. _"Can you help?"_

They're back at street level by now, ducking through alleys and side streets, following the directions Rebecca's feeding through Desmond's earpiece to get back to the van. _"No," _Desmond says. _"The first dreams sound like they're a side effect of the apple, but the last one sounds like it was just a dream."_

_"It wasn't a dream," _Haytham says. _"It's not that hard to tell the difference."_

_"Look," _Desmond says. _"I get that you have issues with your dad, or something. But there's only five of us connected by the animus. Me, you, Altair, Ezio, and-"_ he stops abruptly, because he hasn't mentioned Connor yet, and he's pretty sure Haytham hasn't dug deep enough into his own memories to find out about him.

Luckily, Haytham doesn't even notice the slipup. _"The first time we met, you said the... animus connects you to your ancestors. And the apple connects us to each other. My father's your ancestor- why is this impossible?"_

_"Because I've never been through his memories," _Desmond says. _"I never even heard his name before today."_

Haytham doesn't say anything, but suddenly his head is pounding, and Haytham is pulling away from him, disappointed and angry. Their synchronization drops quickly, and Desmond can only guess how angry and disappointed Haytham must be for that to happen. It's as bad as the first time, and he has to stop and lean against a wall, panting for breath. He stays there for several seconds, until the pain abruptly peaks and then fades away completely, taking Haytham with it.

Desmond can't help but feel a little bad about not being able to help. But he's pretty sure that Haytham's dream must have been a normal one, because there's no way for another ancestor to suddenly connect to them.

Then again, until Connor, he would have thought the animus was the only way to add another ancestor. But Altair and the apple had proved him wrong there...

He makes it back to the van with no more complications, where his dad, Shaun, and Rebecca are waiting. Altair took himself and Ezio back to their own times before the group left the temple, so Desmond doesn't really expect to see them waiting there. He's still disappointed, though. If there's ever a time he could use some advice, it would be now.

"Are you alright?" his dad asks as Desmond climbs into the back of the van.

"Fine," Desmond says. "Why?"

"You fell off the top of the building," William says.

"I still made it." Desmond looks out the window as Shaun starts the van up.

"Barely," William points out. "And I notice you had some company up there."

For a second, Desmond thinks that- somehow- his father is talking about Haytham. He's got his denials and excuses half ready when he realizes he's talking about the blond man in the room with the battery. "Oh," he says. "Right. Who was that guy?"

"Daniel Cross," William explains. "A very dangerous man."

"Not all there in the head," Shaun adds.

"Oh," says Desmond, because it seems like they're all expecting something to be said.

"You're sure you're alright?" William asks, after only the barest second of hesitation. Desmond looks away from the window, right at his father, and he's surprised to see a hint of concern on his face.

"Yea," he says. Then- "Thanks."

William quickly covers the concern with a scowl. "Just be more careful next time," he says.

"Sure, dad," Desmond says. But he's smiling.

**-/-**

**So, so many problems with Haytham... I have no idea where he's going to end up by the end of this, so I don't want to put in too much foreshadowing in any particular direction, but I don't want to put in too little either... it's very complicated. Clearly I just need to get my act together and decide what to do with him.**


	58. Chapter 58

The first time Connor meets his father is in 2012, in the temple on a day that's actually going well before Haytham shows up. It's a Sunday, Desmond's normal day off from the animus, which means all of the moderns are less stressed than normal. And everyone else- Altair, Ezio, and Connor- is there as well, which makes the day a little more interesting.

It's strange, actually. For years, Connor's been happy with just his mother and a few friends from his village. He doesn't really like being around people, and never has. But somehow, recently, he's been making more. First of all, there's Achilles- and however difficult the man may be to get along with, in the end Connor decides he likes the old man. Then there's the people around the homestead- every time one of them moves in, they make the place seem a little more alive, and they make Connor feel a little more alive, too.

But the people Connor finds himself growing closest too are the three that he occasionally shares a mind with. It's probably not surprising- walk a mile in another person's shoes (or body), and there's no way to avoid making friends. He's still not completely comfortable with Desmond or Ezio in his head, but he likes both of them. And he appreciates that neither of them pushes past where he wants them to go. And it doesn't feel strange at all when Altair is in his head. Connor thinks it's probably because he met Alair when he was very young. His thoughts are more like a childhood memory than anything else.

On this day, all four of them are in the temple, holed up in a corner out of sight of the moderns. The atmosphere is lighter than usual when Altair abruptly flinches. Desmond, who's in the middle of saying something to Ezio, stops and gives him a look. "What's the matter with you?" he asks.

"Ah-" Altair looks sideways at Connor, and taps his head. "Your father's in here."

Desmond and Ezio share a complicated look as Connor sits there, not at all sure what to do. Altair winces and looks over at Desmond. "Although judging by his reaction, he didn't know he had a son until just now."

Connor still doesn't move, just keeps staring down at the ground. He doesn't want any of this to be happening. He doesn't want to look at Altair and know that the father he hates is looking out through those eyes.

"What's he doing here?" Desmond asks. His voice is way too casual, like he's trying to pretend that there's nothing going wrong. "Last time it was dreams."

"This time I think it's just normal time travel," Altair says.

Ezio says something in Italian, and Desmond shrugs and answers in the same language.

"That doesn't make any sense," Altair says.

Desmond shrugs. "It's the apple," he says. "None of it makes any sense. I mean, he could sync with me pretty well last time."

"That time you fell off a skyscraper," Altair says.

"Well- yea." Desmond shrugs. "But I mean, he's done it once. Ezio's guess is as good as anything I have. Maybe now that he's been in my head there's no turning back."

"Perfect," Altair sighs. He hesitates, then looks at Connor. "Do you want to say anything?"

"No," Connor says. He looks Altair straight in the eye, knowing Haytham will see it. "I don't want to say anything."

"Hmm." Altair nods, and his frown deepens. "And I really don't think you want to hear anything he's saying right now."

"I don't." Connor shakes his head. He can imagine the kind of things his father has to say about learning he has an assassin for a son, and about learning he _has _a son in the first place. He wonders if Haytham even remembers sending his men to burn down the village all those years ago, and decides that he probably doesn't.

It's amazing how much anger is left, even this many years later. He slides out his hidden blade reflexively. It's just not fair that here he is, standing just two feet away- and Connor can't do anything about it.

"Connor-" There's a warning tone in Ezio's voice, and when Connor glances up at him, Ezio nods at the blade.

"He had my village burned to the ground," Connor says. He knows Ezio doesn't speak English, but he needs to say it out loud. "Don't tell me he doesn't deserve this." But he slides the hidden blade back into place. He knows he isn't going to do anything here, not while Haytham's hiding inside Altair.

So instead he says something that's supposed to be a threat but comes out more like a growl, turns his back, and walks away. He wants to pretend that he can just walk far enough away that he'll eventually find a place Haytham can't follow, but he's pretty sure now that's not true. Not even the future is safe anymore, not now that his father's been here twice. Once could have been an accident. Twice tells him this is going to become a habit. He probably shouldn't be surprised- now that Haytham can sync with Desmond, it's probably inevitable.

And that means it's only a matter of time until he wakes up one morning inside his father's head, or finds Haytham inside of his. He turns and kicks at a light stand nearby, knowing it's petty, knowing he's intangible and it's not going to have any effect, but he's too upset to care.

The kick doesn't do anything to the light, but Connor's toe is suddenly throbbing in pain. He glares at the offending foot and sits himself down on the floor in an out of the way corner. This day is going downhill fast.


	59. Chapter 59

Time passes very slowly for Desmond after the day Haytham makes his first appearance in Altair's head. Haytham is syncing well enough to start making regular appearances, but not one of them ends well. If everyone's lucky, there will be an argument or a few traded threats, but more than once they comes close to trading blows. Haytham actually does punch Desmond once- Connor was in his head at the time, but that does nothing to make his bloody nose easier to explain later.

It's turning into sort of a nightmare for Desmond, with the only bright side being that it makes his own dad look like father of the year material in comparison. It's not a _very _bright spot, but it's better than nothing.

For a while, everything just keeps getting worse, but then something finally breaks. In 1778, Haytham and Connor end up going after the same man- Benjamin Church, a man whose simultaneous betrayal of the patriots and templars forces the Kenways into a temporary truce. Desmond, Altair, and Ezio have their fingers crossed right up until the moment it all falls dramatically- and predictably- apart.

After that, their relationship is- if anything- worse. They go out of their way to avoid each other, and when time and the apple conspire to bring them to the same place and the same time, there's always someone around to keep them away from each other.

So far, there's always been someone around to keep them away from each other.

That changes on the day Connor goes after Fort George. Desmond goes along for the ride, following Connor as he cuts a path through soldiers and templars until he gets inside the fort. It's a little worrying, actually. Ever since the fall out with Haytham, Connor's been more angry, more violent, more withdrawn. Desmond would have talked to him about it already, except that Connor hasn't been listening very well either.

So all Desmond can do is follow along behind, running to keep up, until suddenly he comes to a stop so close behind Connor that he nearly runs into him. He opens his mouth to ask what's wrong, and then closes it again, because as soon as he looks up, he knows what the problem is.

"Connor," Haytham says. "I can't say I'm surprised to see you here."

Since there's a small fleet of ships pounding away at the fort with cannon as they speak, Desmond has to admit he has a point.

"And Desmond," Haytham says. "Slightly more surprising." Desmond only shrugs.

"I didn't come here for you," Connor growls. "Where is Lee?"

"Gone," says Haytham. "I sent him away."

"You don't have to do this," Desmond says, but neither of them is listening. He barely has time to get the words out before Haytham and Connor are at each other's throats, fighting harder than Desmond has ever seen either of them fight before.

He grits his teeth and makes a move to step into the fight- he still owes Haytham for that bloody nose, and no one else is around to break it up- but before he can go more than a couple of feet, he hears another voice.

"Pull him out of there, now!"

It's his father's, Desmond realizes- and then a second later he can feel the pull of the animus, trying to yank him back to the twenty first century. But he knows that if he goes back now, either Connor or Haytham isn't going to walk out of the fort alive. Possibly neither of them. He fights back- he can't use the apple anywhere near as well as Altair, but all he wants to do is stay exactly where he is. It can't be that hard.

It is. The apple inside him responds, bursting into light, powering up. But it doesn't stop Desmond from getting pulled out. It does something _else_. For a second, Desmond can't understand what he's seeing. Both Kenways stop what they're doing, stare at each other for a second, then go at it again. But something's wrong. They've switched fighting styles.

"What-"

And then he opens his eyes and it's 2012 again, exactly where he doesn't want to be. He jumps out of the animus, panting and still glowing from the apple.

"Christ, Desmond-" Shaun says, jumping back before Desmond can land on him. "What is wrong with you?"

"Why'd you pull me out?" Desmond demands. His brain is still racing, trying to figure out what the apple had done- and then it clicks. What he saw wasn't Connor and Haytham switching fighting styles. He saw the apple switch their minds. And the two of them- mentally, he curses and calls them out in idiots in every language he knows- are angry enough to keep fighting anyway.

One of them is going to kill the other, and he has no idea what's going to happen after that.

"Something went wrong," Rebecca says. She's glued to her computer, as usual, an intense frown on her face. "I have no idea why, but-"

"It's nothing," Desmond says. "Listen, I need to get back in there. Now."

"Uh-" Rebecca shakes her head. "No way. Not until I figure out what went wrong."

"It can't be anything that bad," Desmond says.

"He said your name," William says. "That shouldn't be possible."

"It's _not _possible," Rebecca says, without looking over her shoulder. "Something's wrong."

For a second, Desmond only gapes at her, because he can't believe that after months of secrets, of hiding and lying and pretending, that a dumb mistake like this could mess everything up. And right when he really needs to use the animus.

"Desmond?" William prompts.

"Ah-" he shakes his head to clear it. "Right. Something's- wrong. Of course." He glances around, trying to look casual, but there's no sign of either Altair or Ezio. Perfect. He's on his own here, with no access to the animus. There's only one other way to time travel, and the apple isn't doing anything but making things worse right now. Unfortunately, it's his only option.

"I know something's wrong," William says. "Do you know what it is?"

"Me?" Desmond shakes his head, only half paying attention to the conversation. Most of his mind is focused on the apple, praying that it's going to do what he needs, just this once. "How would I know?"

"I don't know," William says. "You were in the animus, maybe you saw something."

He can feel it inside him, a warm glow in every limb, responding to him in a way it never has before. "I didn't see anything," he says.

"Maybe it has something to do with that..." Shaun hesitates, looking for the right words. "Weird apple thing you're doing?"

"Maybe," William says. "What is that, anyway?"

There's no way he can aim well enough to find the exact point in time he needs to be at. Not on his first go. But he can feel Altair's apple, calling to his from almost a century in the past. He can follow that back in time, easily. He looks his father straight in the eye, shrugs- and vanishes.

Altair's right in front of him when he reappears in Masyaf. He doesn't waste time questioning the apple, just takes one look at Desmond's face and asks, "What's wrong?"

"Haytham and Connor are going to kill each other," Desmond says. He's panting, his legs feel like they're going to give out any second, and he can feel his hands shaking. Using the apple feels like running a marathon. Either it gets easier, or Altair's been keeping secrets. And he'd know if Altair was keeping secrets. "I- the apple switched them, though. I don't know what's going to happen if one of them dies in the other person's body."

"Right." Altair doesn't even bat an eye at the story, and it strikes Desmond suddenly how ridiculous everything in his life is. "Let's go."


	60. Chapter 60

There's a part of Haytham that knows he should be worried about this. That normal people would be worried about suddenly switching bodies with their son. But it's only a small part of him, and the rest of his mind is far more interested in Connor.

He's angry, more angry than he can remember being in a very long time. Possibly ever. Part of it is his own, leftover from frustration that the assassins couldn't help him find his father, and disappointment that he couldn't work things out with Connor. Apparently he's as bad a father as he is a son.

But that's only part of the anger. Connor's mind is out of his own body, transferred to Haytham's. But there are still traces of him left in his body. Instincts. Certain ways of moving. Feelings. And every time he looks at- at himself- the rage just comes roaring up, joining with his own anger, catching him up and carrying him along for the ride. It crowds out all rational thought, forcing his focus onto the fight, and only the fight.

His attention is so single minded, he doesn't even realize anyone else is there until someone slams into him from behind, knocking him off his feet. For a second, he struggles, but he's completely pinned down, and he's been fighting for a while. There's at least one bone broken, and he's covered in blood and bruises.

He squints up through a swollen eye and recognizes Desmond just as he leans down and punches Haytham in the face. "That's for being an idiot," Desmond says, kicking his weapons away. "Seriously, Con- shit, Haytham- what are you doing? You're going to kill yourself? Is that the plan?"

"No!" Haytham tries to shove Desmond away, but he's obviously expecting it and doesn't budge. "Get off."

"Not going to happen," Desmond says. "You're completely out of control- and I worked at a bar for years. I've seen a lot of stupid fights. Yours might just be the stupidest of them all."

"It's none of your business," Haytham snarls. "This is about family."

"I know," Desmond says. He leans close and speaks clearly, as if to an especially stupid child. "Guess what? We're family. If sharing a head with someone doesn't make you family, then I don't think anything does."

Haytham finally manages to shove Desmond off him, but he doesn't move farther than to sit up and glare at him. "Maybe you haven't noticed," he says. "But having a family hasn't worked out too well for me."

"Alright," Desmond says, and glances off to the left; when Haytham follows his gaze, he sees Altair struggling with Connor. He can't watch that for more than a few seconds before his brain starts to hurt, though, and he quickly turns away from the sight of his own body. "Maybe you have a point about that," Desmond goes on. "I mean, most people don't have problems like this. But that doesn't mean you give up and try to stab a blade into your own face, alright?" He shakes his head. "You have some serious problems."

There's really no way to argue with that, but at the same, there's clearly no way to go forward from here without some kind of resolution. He walked into Fort George earlier that day, expecting to either kill Connor or be killed himself. There's no way either of them is walking out without some kind of final outcome.

Altair walks up to Desmond and says something quietly to him. While neither of them is paying him any attention, Haytham finds his attention wandering back over to Connor. His son is staring back at him from behind his own face, and- for a while at least- they're both calm enough to examine each other in silence. It's strange enough to be looking at himself from the outside, Haytham decides, but it's even worse knowing there's someone in there, and that it isn't him.

"Okay," Desmond announces. "Here's how this is going to work. First, both of you are going to calm down."

"I am calm," Connor says.

"And you're going to stay calm until we figure out how to fix this," Desmond goes on, ignoring him.

"What do you mean, 'figure out'?" Haytham asks. "Won't it just undo itself after a while?"

"It should," Altair says.

"But this is the first time anyone's actually _switched_ bodies," Desmond finishes. "We've had people sharing bodies, obviously, stealing bodies-"

"You were in a coma," Altair mutters.

"Even a weird body rotation thing, once," Desmond says. "But I'm pretty sure that had something to do with me being in a coma. Anyway-" he coughs and turns a little red. "And I mean obviously it's just random chance, and it's not like it's because of someone using an apple the wrong way."

"So what you're saying is, this is your fault," says Connor. He still sounds upset, but he's not out of control angry anymore.

"Maybe," says Desmond.

"And you're also saying that you don't know if we're getting back to normal," Haytham adds.

Desmond turns a brighter shade of red, and says, "I'll work on it. Just... try not to kill each other before this gets fixed, alright? Do you think you can do that?"

"You don't have to treat us like children," Connor says.

"Then stop acting like brats," Altair snaps at him, and Connor recoils as if he's been slapped in the face. "Both of you are more intelligent than this. So figure out how to work this until we get it fixed." And without another word, he walks off, followed a few seconds later by Desmond.

Haytham gets up slowly, testing every joint to make sure nothing's been hurt too badly to use. He's also playing for time, trying to avoid looking at Connor for as long as possible. But eventually he runs out of ways to stall, and has to look up.

Connor's watching him, arms folded over his chest, eyes narrowed. "So what happens now?" he asks.

"I don't know," Haytham says. "That's up to you. Are you going to be difficult?"

"Am I-" Connor gives him a look. "Am _I _going to be difficult? You tried to kill me."

"I think it was mutual," Haytham says. "I'm willing to-"

"I'm not talking about what just happened," Connor says. "I'm talking about twenty years ago. You ordered my village burned to the ground. You could have killed me, my mother, and everyone else there!"

"I could have," Haytham agrees. "If I'd ever ordered anything like that."

"You-" Connor's expression goes through something complicated that Haytham didn't even know his face was capable of. "You didn't."

"I don't even know what you're talking about," Haytham says.

"It was your men I saw that day," Connor says. "Trust me. I remember."

Haytham shrugs. "Well, believe it or not, they don't always do exactly as I tell them to."

For several seconds, Connor says nothing. Then he nods, just once. "Alright." His voice is cautious. "What do we do?"

Cautious isn't great, but it's better than angry. "We need to go somewhere safe," he says. "I don't want anything to do with your assassins, and I don't want you near my templars. I don't think any of them would make it out alive."

"I agree," Connor says. "And... I think I have an idea." He doesn't look Haytham in the eye as he says it, focusing on something just over his shoulder instead. "It's... not a good idea," he admits. "And five minutes ago I wouldn't have suggested it..."

"I've never heard you so reluctant to get to the point," Haytham says. "Where do you want to go?"

"My village," Connor says. "No templars, no assassins. But-" and now he is looking Haytham straight in the eye, and it's clear that he is absolutely serious. "If you put any of those people in danger by being there, or if I find out you were lying about that fire, I will kill you. I don't care whose body you're in."

Haytham hesitates, but right now he really has no choice. There's nowhere else he can think of that's out of the way enough to keep anyone from finding them, but close enough to get too quickly. He still has doubts, though. "Aren't there people there that know you?" he asks. "They won't believe I'm you, and I don't wan to explain all this."

"I haven't been back there much recently," Connor admits. "I've been busy. There's only one person that might notice something's wrong."

He starts to walk off, and Haytham follows. "Who's that?" he asks.

"My mother," Connor says, without looking at him.

Haytham stops in his tracks. Ziio. Of course.

This is going to be even worse than he had imagined.

**-/-**

**So... this chapter was fun to write. And also awful, because it didn't turn out how I wanted at all. Too many emotions. Bleh.**

**3/1/14 Edit- minor fact corrections, because I'm OCD, and because this story is getting convoluted and lengthy enough that I can't remember everything that's happened anymore.**


	61. Chapter 61

Rather than struggle with his own apple, Desmond accepts Altair' offer when he volunteers to take him back to 2012. He's tired, a little bloody, and there's an impressive collection of bruises starting to form on nearly every inch of his body that Haytham was able to reach while pinned down. It would have been a challenge to drag his exhausted body 30 feet, much less 300 years.

Altair takes him to a quiet corner of the temple, the same one they always use when they don't want to be seen. "Thanks," Desmond says.

"Of course." Altair glances over his shoulder, to where they can hear raised voices from the modern assassins. "How are you going to explain this?"

"I'm thinking the truth," Desmond says. The others had seen something go wrong with the animus, then watched him flip out and vanish. Now he's about to reappear, covered in bruises and ready to fall off his feet. He can't even imagine another explanation that would fit all that.

Altair nods. "I agree."

"It's not going to be easy, though," Desmond says, and lets out a shaky sigh.

"Want me to stay?"

"That'd be good," Desmond says. "It'd be better if they could actually see you, but I guess there's no getting around them thinking I'm crazy."

"I'll see what I can do," Altair tells him.

"You can't-"

"I've done it once already," Altair points out.

"When we found the second apple?" Desmond demands. "That was once. On accident. And you told me that the only reason it even happened was because you were right next to the other apple. "

"The one that's inside you right now," Altair says.

"I don't think it works the same when it's inside me," Desmond says. "Or it would have happened by now. It would be happening all the time."

Altair shakes his head. "I'll make it work."

"But-"

"I'll make it work," Altair says again.

Desmond shakes his head and gives up. There's no arguing with Altair when he decides to be stubborn. "Fine," he says. "I'll just go talk to them, and you jump in if you can." He takes a breath, and walks into the most awkward conversation of his life.

His dad, Shaun, and Rebecca have actually stopped arguing by the time he makes it to the main room of the temple. They've all retreated to their own separate corners, not looking at each other, lost in thought. Apparently _very _lost in thought, because he's not even trying to be quiet- he's way too tired for that- but no one looks up as he comes closer. For a second, Desmond even wonders if something's gone wrong and they actually can't see or hear him.

He coughs loudly and all three of them look up.

"Desmond!" Rebecca's the first one out of her seat, practically flying over to him. "You're not dead!"

He shrugs. "Not yet, I guess."

She punches him in the arm.

"Ow! What-"

"Where were you?" Rebecca demands. "What happened? Why are you covered in blood?"

"It's not mine," Desmond says. "And I'm not _covered _in-"

"You disappeared right in front of us!" Rebecca goes on, talking right over him. "That's not even possible."

There's a long, awkward pause before Desmond realizes she's actually going to give him a chance to answer this time. Neither Shaun nor his dad look like they're going to say anything- which leaves Desmond with the problem of figuring out where to start.

"Okay," he says at last. "Um-" There's absolutely no way he's walking out of this sounding sane. For some reason, the thought's actually comforting. If they're going to think he's crazy anyway, it doesn't really matter what he says. "It's time travel."

"Time travel." Shaun says- apparently having recovered the ability to speak. "Because everything else that's happened isn't weird enough already?" He shakes his head. "Where did you even learn how to time travel?"

"You actually believe this?" William demands.

"Is there any way to explain all this that actually is believable?" Shaun asks. "I want to hear where this goes."

"I didn't really learn," Desmond says. "It just happens. Kind of a lot. But this was the first time I tried on purpose."

"What do you mean, 'a lot'?" Rebecca asks.

"Just... a lot," Desmond says. He doesn't want to explain that technically every time he uses the animus it's pretty much time travel, and it's definitely not time to mention everyone else's visits to the temple. This is just simplifying. For now. "Usually time doesn't move here when I'm gone, but obviously that didn't happen this time" He points at the animus. "It's all thanks to that, actually," he says. "Combined with the apple. They don't mix well together."

"So this has been happening since the Colosseum," Shaun says. "And you haven't told us?"

"No," Desmond admits. "It actually started before I escaped from Abstergo."

"Wow." Shaun says.

"Sorry."

"Just- wow."

"Wait," Rebecca says. "You didn't even have the apple then."

"I didn't, "Desmond agrees. "But Altair did."

"So?" William asks.

"So, that was the first time he saw me," Desmond says. "Right after he took the apple from Al Mualim."

"What do you mean, he saw you?" William asks. "That's not how the animus works."

"It is when the apple gets mixed in," Desmond says. He tries to remember the way Clay explained it to him when he was comatose. "The animus is based on first civilization technology. The apple _is _first civilization technology. When they mix... weird things happen."

"What kind of weird things?" asks Rebecca.

"The animus is designed to put a person inside their ancestor's head," Desmond says. "With the apple, it works both ways. Sometimes I'm in their heads, sometimes they're in my head."

"Or you're just imagining things," William says.

"Bleeding-" says Shaun.

"Okay, well, that explains a lot." Rebecca shrugs as everyone turns to look at her. "What? It does." She points at her computer. "Look, I spend a lot of time working with the animus. And there's a lot of data that doesn't make sense. Readings that shouldn't be there, weird spikes in brainwave patterns- this does explain all that."

"So-" Shaun shakes his head. "You're saying that every ancestor you've seen in the animus, they all knew you were there?" When Desmond nods, he asks- "Then why is this the first we've heard about it? Shouldn't we have seen or heard something?"

"We did," Rebecca says. "Today, actually, remember? We heard Haytham talking to Desmond."

"And assumed it was a glitch in the animus," William says. "And I'm not hearing anything that can't be explained by some combination of technical malfunctions and the bleeding effect."

"Come on," Desmond says. "Dad-"

"Maybe it's time you took a break," William goes on. "I realize we've been pushing you hard lately, but we do have the end of the world to think about. We could all probably do with a break, though."

"Shaun," Rebecca interrupts suddenly. Her voice is tense, and she's the only one not focused on the argument between William and Desmond. Instead, her eyes are fixed on something a ways beyond them. "Do you remember what we saw under the Colosseum when we went after the apple?"

"I remember a lot of things," Shaun says. "It was a busy day."

"Do you remember him?" Rebecca asks, and all four of them turn to see Altair, glowing much more brightly that what Desmond is used to seeing. He's leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching them all from under his hood. Desmond breathes a sigh of relief- he hadn't really believed Altair could do it, not until that moment.

"I definitely thought that was just something from the apple last time," Shaun says. "But it's real?"

"Yea," Desmond says. "_He's _real."

"Alright then," William says, after an extremely long pause. "Why don't you tell us the whole story?"


	62. Chapter 62

Ezio falls asleep in his own bed, and wakes up inside Altair's brain. It's always sort of jarring when that happens, because it's not like waking up normally. It's an abrupt transition, from being completely asleep to awake in less than a second. It's worst with Altair, too, because he's always alert, always looking for an angle. They all do it, of course- Ezio does it himself. Never letting down your guard is part of what it means to be an assassin. But there's a special intensity to the way Altair sees the world that is especially difficult to deal with first thing in the morning.

_"It's 2:00 in the afternoon," _Altair says.

_"Not in 1513," _Ezio says, and looks around. _"What's going on here?"_

_"Desmond was in the animus, tried to use the apple, got it wrong, and switched Haytham and Connor."_

_"I'm sure that ended... horribly."_

_"We kept them from killing each other." _Ezio can feel the annoyance practically leaking out of him. _"Barely. But it was impossible to hide it from them-" _he nods to the modern assassins, who are sitting only a few yards away, listening to Desmond and casting the occasional furtive glance in Altair's direction. _"So Desmond's telling them everything."_

_"What are you doing?"_

_"Just standing here and being visible." _Altair nods at William. _"He didn't really believe Desmond until I used the apple to let them see me."_

_"You can do that now?"_

_"Yes." _But his tone is too confident to be believable, and Ezio doesn't have to dig too far into his mind to find the lie.

_"You're going to fall off your feet in a minute."_

_"I'm fine," _Altair growls.

_"Look, if it's using too much energy, don't push yourself."_

_"I know my limits," _Altair says, and Ezio gives up.

_"Fine. But don't blame me when you pass out."_

Which he does, barely five minutes later. Ezio, who's been able to feel him slipping the entire time, only sighs as Altair blacks out and the apple stops working. When Altair drops unconscious, Ezio gets control of the body just in time to keep him from falling over.

"You okay?" Desmond asks.

"He tried to keep it going too long and passed out," Ezio says.

"Oh. So who-"

"Ezio," Ezio says tiredly.

"So are we going to have to get used to you talking to invisible people now?" Shaun asks, gesturing in the general direction of Ezio.

"Probably," says Desmond. "Using the apple like that is really difficult. I couldn't do it if I tried for years. And I can say that because Altair just knocked himself out by trying to use it too long, so I don't feel bad about not being able to do it at all."

"Then who are you talking to?" Rebecca asks.

"Ezio in Altair's body."

"Right," Shaun says, after a very long pause. "There's no way I'm getting used to this."

"So, wait-" Rebecca gives Desmond a suspicious look. "When one of you is unconscious, someone else can just step in and take over?"

"If they're already in there," Desmond says.

"So that time when we were leaving Italy and you _weren't _in a coma for a little while..?"

"Um... yea," Desmond admits. "That was Ezio."

"Were you ever going to tell us any of this?" William snaps.

"I was waiting for a time when it wouldn't sound crazy," Desmond says. "Except things just kept getting weirder. I'm sorry."

His father heaves a deep sigh. "Fine," he says. "But you've told us everything now, right?"

"Yea."

"Then let's get back to looking for the key." William rubs his face, and Ezio notices dark circles under his eyes. "We're still running out of time."

"Which is ironic," Shaun says. "Because of the time travel."

"Not helping, Shaun."

Desmond glances over at Ezio as Rebecca starts the prep work to get him back into the animus. "Is Altair alright in there?"

"Yea." Ezio shrugs. "He should be up in a couple hours."

"Right." Desmond sighs. "Good to hear. Let's get this over with." Then, with an absolute lack of any kind of enthusiasm- "I can't wait to see how Connor and Haytham are getting along today."


	63. Chapter 63

It's very, very quiet in the forest. The normal sounds of animals are gone- they've all been scared away, or into hiding. There's not so much as a breath of wind blowing, so even the trees are still. It feels like the world is holding its breath, and Connor can't blame it. The last thing _he_ wants to do right now is attract his mother's attention.

He and Haytham are sitting on a log, trying not to look at each other, or especially at Ziio, who's standing in front of them, arms crossed, looking more angry than Connor can remember ever seeing her before. She's not yelling. Anymore. But Connor's ears are still ringing with the tirade she's just finished with, and so he stares very hard at the ground and hopes Haytham will do something to attract her attention before he does. Even after years as an assassin, he still feels like a little boy around his mother.

"You don't seem to be taking this well," Haytham says, and Connor breathes a sigh of relief.

"What did you expect me to do?" Ziio demands. "You come to me with a story like yours, and you don't think I'll be angry?"

"I told you we shouldn't have said anything," Haytham mutters.

"Yea," Connor says. "How well do you think this would have gone if we'd started out by lying?"

"It's not like we did any of this on purpose," Haytham snaps. "We'd switch back right now if we could."

"You think that's what I'm angry about." Ziio raises an eyebrow.

"Well- yes," Haytham says, and gives Connor a very confused sideways look. Connor only shrugs.

"You both nearly killed each other, and you think there's anything else I would be angry about?" Ziio continues. "It's incredibly stupid."

"You're not the first one to say that today," Haytham admits.

"Good," says Ziio. "You deserve to hear it a few more times." She shakes her head and glares at Haytham. "I thought I raised you better than that."

Connor turns red. There aren't many situations he can think of right now that sound worse than being stuck in his father's body. "Actually-"

"Right." She glares at him, too, then her gaze softens and she shakes her head. "This is going to take some getting used to."

Haytham flinches, and Connor looks over at him. "Who's in your head?" he asks.

"Desmond," Haytham says. "Does this happen to you a lot?"

"Yes," says Connor.

"Does it?" Ziio asks. "Were you going to mention the people in your head at any point?"

Connor decides his best choice is to say nothing, so he ducks his head and carefully studies the ground by his feet.

"Why are they even in your head?" Ziio demands. She looks between Haytham and Connor, as if not sure who she's supposed to blame for this.

"They're looking for something," Connor says. "A key."

"It's the same one I showed you that summer we met," Haytham adds. "You remember, the day you showed me the cave, and we-"

"I remember," Ziio says quickly, and they both look at Connor, who has no idea why they both suddenly look embarrassed. "So why don't you just give it to them, so they can stop wasting time looking for it and focus on getting you two back to normal?"

"Well, yes," Haytham says. "That would be a wonderful plan, except that I don't have it anymore."

"You don't?" Connor asks. "Then who does?"

"Charles Lee," Haytham says. "I gave it to him this morning."

Connor groans and drops his head into his hands. This day just isn't getting any better.


	64. Chapter 64

Desmond climbs out of the animus a little after 8:30 on December 20th with the location of the key. On his end, it's only been a couple of days since Connor and Haytham swapped bodies, but because of the way time passes in the animus, for them it's been several months. He's actually a little surprised they managed to get it in such a short time. They still don't work together well, and Desmond doubts they'll ever completely trust each other, not after what happened at Fort George. But finding the key gives them a common goal, and in the end- after months of arguments, planning, and cautious teamwork- they have it.

"So now all we have to do is dig it up and save the world," Shaun's saying when Desmond sits up from the animus. He's standing over Rebecca, looking at something on her computer. Probably the footage from the last session.

"How exactly is that going to work?" Rebecca asks.

"Well, you know." Shaun shrugs. "Get a shovel, find some dirt-"

"Not the digging." Rebecca rolls her eyes. "The saving the world."

"We'll figure it out when we have the key," William interrupts from the other side of the temple. "Desmond, you ready to go?"

"Yep." The key's buried under a grave on Davenport Homestead; Connor's idea, obviously, not Haytham's. So it all comes down to just a little bit of driving, a shovel, and the end of the world. He takes a deep breath and tries to pretend that he's not shaking.

"Nervous?" William asks, and Desmond knows he's noticed anyway. He never could hide anything from his father.

Well. Nothing other than the ghosts of his ancestors living in his head, anyway. And speaking of ancestors- Desmond looks around, expecting to see one or two of them at least, but for once he's alone. His mind is quiet, and the temple feels oddly empty without them.

"It'll be fine," William says. "Let's go." He leads the way out of the temple, squeezing Desmond's shoulder as he passes. It's something he used to do a long time ago, when Desmond was a child, on the rare occasions he could actually manage to do something his father approved of.

He takes another deep breath and follows William out, Shaun and Rebecca bringing up the rear. He's not shaking anymore.

The ride passes in complete silence, but just as they're pulling up to the grave site, Rebecca suddenly says, "Shit!" and starts pounding furiously on her laptop.

"What's wrong?" William demands.

"I put defenses around all the technology we use, to keep Abstergo from tracking us," Rebecca says. "But they just went down."

"Abstergo?" William asks.

"They'll be on us in half an hour or less," says Rebecca. "We need to find this key fast."

"Well, we're here," Shaun says. "Let's get digging."

And so they start digging. Desmond knows exactly where Connor buried it, but it's still hard to find. The key is small, and it's way too easy to accidentally throw it away in a shovelful of dirt. Especially in the dark, and there's a lot of that this late in December. A lot of dark, and a lot of cold.

Desmond finds it eventually, though, half sticking out of the dirt six feet down. "I got it," he calls, and holds up the tiny disk.

"Great," Shaun says. Desmond can't see him, because all he's down n the hole with a high wall of dirt surrounding him on all sides. He can't see him, but there's something about his voice that definitely sounds tense. "You should probably bring it up now before someone gets shot."

There's three Abstergo goons waiting for him when Desmond climbs back out of the hole, which is actually less than he'd been expecting. Maybe he's just gotten too used to the way his ancestors tend to attract the attentions of entire cities full of guards. But three guards means one each holding a gun on his dad and his friends, and that's a pretty effective discouragement from him doing anything rash.

"Well, well, Mr. Miles," a voice says just behind him, and Desmond goes stiff, feeling like someone's just dumped a glass of ice water down his spine. He knows that voice.

"Vidic," he says, turning around.

"I'll be honest," Vidic says, glancing at the dug up grave. "I was not expecting to find you here, doing... whatever it is you're doing."

"I-"

"It doesn't matter," Vidic says. "Because all I'm interested in is the apple. Give it to me, and nobody gets hurt."

Which is actually almost laughable. Desmond doesn't believe for a second that, if Vidic has his way, any of the assassins will be walking away from this alive. "Why do you think I have it with me?"

"You think I'd believe you left it somewhere to come on this little dig?" Vidic asks. "No. You have it here, somewhere. Show me."

"Fine." And there's not a lot that Desmond can do with the apple, but the one thing it seems to do at the drop of a hat is glow. It doesn't matter if the thing's translating, or time traveling, or switching peoples' bodies around. It _always _glows, and so it takes barely a thought to light it up now. The apple blazes to life, ribbons of light racing in complex patterns across his skin. It feels like fire, and Desmond realizes it's his anger feeding the apple, giving it energy.

"What is that?" Vidic demands. "What are you doing?"

"Showing you what you wanted to see," Desmond says.

"Kill them!" Vidic shouts, and Desmond sees one of the men raise a gun to his dad's head.

Something snaps, and Desmond moves before anyone- including himself- knows what he's doing, he's taken out the guy holding his dad, plus the guy holding Rebecca. The one on Shaun puts up a little more of a struggle, but not enough to save him. Then he turns his gaze on Vidic.

"You brought this on yourself, Vidic," he says. "I was hiding out in New York, and I never would have come back to any of this if you hadn't dragged me into it. But my real problem with you is Lucy. I know it was your idea to make me think I could trust her. And then I had to kill her." He slides out his hidden blade, and says, "Goodbye, Vidic."

Five minutes later, they're back in the van, leaving four templar bodies behind. "Rebecca?" Desmond says. He doesn't look at her, keeping his eyes on the key in his hand. He's never killed like that before. Not for revenge. The apple's dormant inside him again, and the anger has faded too, leaving him feeling empty.

"Yea?" she asks.

"Abstergo's not still tracking us, are they?"

"No," Rebecca says, softly. "I patched up the holes."

"Good." He pockets the key, turns to stare out the window. "Let's go save the world, then."


	65. Chapter 65

Haytham hasn't dreamed once since the day he and Connor switched bodies, but the night after they bury the key, he has one. It's another one about his father, but there are two differences between this dream and the last one. The first one is that this time, he's not on a ship. He's somewhere he's been before- the house where he lived the first ten years of his life, until his father died. And the second difference is that he's not here as a visitor. This could be one of his own memories.

In his dream, he is himself again. Ten years old, sitting in his father's study, working his lessons or just watching Edward work. He can remember dozens of days like that, and this memory could have been any of them, or all of them together. He feels safe in a way he hasn't since he was a very small child, even with the by now familiar golden glow of the apple surrounding everything.

He feels like he's supposed to do something, or say something. But he doesn't know what it should be, so he stays quiet and still. This strategy works well enough until Edward looks down at him and says, "Haytham?"

Haytham jumps, opens his mouth to answer, and then closes it again. This is his dream, and he should be the one to decide what happens in it. He doesn't want to talk to his father right now- he's completely wrung out from working with Connor, from trying to make amends with Ziio, from dealing with the other assassins. He's not sure if he can take a reunion with his father on top of all that.

And maybe that's why the next words out of his mouth are so awful.

"Why couldn't you just stay dead?" he asks, and his voice sounds high and thin to his own ears. "Things were so much easier when you were dead and buried."

He looks down at his knees, studying them for a very long time. When he finally looks back up, Edward is studying him in silence. "This is your first time, isn't it?"

"First time..?"

"With the apple," Edward says. "Meeting me."

"How do you know about that?" Haytham asks. Then he sighs, because honestly, it's obvious. If he's one of Desmond's ancestors, that means his father must be, too. And that means Desmond can get inside his memories with the animus. He doesn't know why he would want to, but if that particular animus trip is still in his future, he can only assume he'll find out eventually. "Don't tell me you got dragged into all of this too."

Edward shrugs, apparently not at all concerned. "How far are you in your time?" he asks. "Have you switched with Connor yet?"

"A few months ago," Haytham says, and feels himself turn red. "You heard about that?"

"I heard five different versions of that," Edward says. "Alright, so a few months after the switch, but you haven't met me yet-"

"Only the normal way," Haytham says. "When I was a child."

"Right," Edward says. "That's what I meant. Is Desmond dead yet?"

"What?" Haytham almost chokes on the word. "He's going to die?"

"Haytham-"

He's not listening, though. For some reason, the idea of Desmond dying has him upset, far more upset than he should be. Not too long ago, he would have been happy to hear the news. After all, it's Desmond that links all of them- himself, Connor, Ezio, Altair- together. With him gone, maybe life can go back to normal. But that was while he wasn't looking at the face of his dead father. He's not ready for another death right now. Besides, he's spent the past several months in the body of his soon. Normal is looking more and more out of reach.

"Haytham!" Edward says again, and steps forward to take hold of his shoulders. "Calm down."

"No," Haytham shakes his head. "I'm going to save him."

"If you would just _listen-"_

And Haytham wakes up. Connor's standing over him, and for a second Haytham can't do anything but stare, because it doesn't matter how long they've been switched, he's never going to get used to waking up to see his own body. He groans and sits up, trying to ignore his pounding head. Probably a souvenir from his dream.

"You were making... noises," Connor says. "In your sleep. What's wrong?"

"I had a dream," Haytham says. "From the apple."

"What was it about?"

"I met my father," Haytham says. He can tell by his body language that Connor's almost bursting to ask for more information, but Haytham doesn't volunteer any. He's never talked about Edward with Connor, and he doesn't plan to start now. As quickly as he can, and avoiding all but the most relevant details, he summarizes the dream.

"Desmond's going to die," Connor repeats. "And you- care?"

"Don't even go there," Haytham says.

"It's not a bad thing," Connor says. "Listen-"

"We don't have time," Haytham says. "If he's going to die, and we want to stop it, we need to act fast."

"Neither of us has an apple," Connor says. "We can't do _anything_ unless we happen to show up in 2012. And-"

"So you're happy with just standing here, waiting?" Haytham asks.

"And I wanted to apologize," Connor says loudly, speaking over Haytham.

"You- what?"

"For..." Connor's not much better with words than Haytham is. Maybe worse. "You know. Everything. We're on different sides of this templar and assassin war. But we're also in a weird... apple, time travel... situation. We can't afford to fight, and it ends with both of us in the wrong body. And... I'm sorry."

"Alright, then," Haytham says. "I'm sorry, too. I just... don't exactly know what to say here." He's still trying to figure out why he cares that Desmond is going to die. And then he realizes- he doesn't have many people he cares about left. And as much as he hates to admit it, every one of the people the apple has linked together- and he feels a lot better knowing that his father is, or will be, one of them- is as close as he's ever going to get to having a real family.

"So," he says, once the silence has stretched on long enough to get sufficiently awkward. "We've tried to kill each other. We've figured out how to live with each other."

"Now let's try and save a life together," Connor finishes.

**-/-**

**Too many emotions in this chapter...**

**TIME TRAVEL NOTE: So in terms of Haytham meeting Edward. At some point, several chapters down the line, Edward's going to join the cast of this story. Stuff happens, and he meets Haytham who's slightly older than the Haytham in this chapter. Blah blah blah, more story, and eventually Edward meets Haytham in his dream (aka, this chapter). Hopefully this was clear in the chapter, and if not, hopefully this A/N was clear. And if not... um, sorry.**


	66. Chapter 66

So this is what it means to save the world.

It means listening to a crazy woman who should have been dead millenia ago when she tells him that the only way to stop most everyone in the world from dying is to kill himself and set her free to enslave the human race.

It doesn't feel as good to save the world as he thought it would.

"Desmond," Rebecca says. "You don't have to do this."

"Yea," he says. "I do. But you three- you need to get out of here. Just in case." He doesn't trust Juno, not at all.

"Desmond-"

He doesn't let his dad get another word out. "Now." When they don't move, he adds- "Please."

"Alright." He feels his father squeeze his shoulder. "I'm proud of you, son."

He doesn't say anything, because he knows that if he tries to, he's just going to start crying. And he doesn't want to die like that. But he hears three sets of footsteps fading away behind him, and he feels a little bit better.

He stares at the glowing sphere in front of him for what feels like a long time, feeling the apple pulse inside him the entire time. After a while, he manages to say- "You guys should probably clear out, too."

He turns, and there they all are. Altair, Ezio, Connor, and even Haytham. Of course they are. He's about to die, and it's going to be the most important thing he ever does.

"No," Haytham says. "This isn't going to happen."

Desmond looks at him, then at Connor, wondering if they've somehow switched back- but Connor only shrugs and shakes his head.

"There's no way around it," Desmond says. "You heard what she said."

"You're going to die," Ezio says. He doesn't say it like it's the worst thing in the world, the way most people would. "Is this something you're willing to give up your life for?"

No. Honestly- no. Now that he's standing here, facing death, there's nothing that seems so important to him as his own life. He doesn't want to die. But...

If he doesn't, millions- billions of people will die in his place. He wonders if anyone's ever had to make a choice like this. His life held against the fate of the entire world. He doesn't answer Ezio's question directly. "If I do- when I do this, Juno's going to start making her moves."

She's listening, laughing, from somewhere behind him. Desmond wonders if he can see his ancestors standing there, or if she thinks he's lost it. Not that it matters now- after all, he's going to die in a minute.

"You guys have to stop her."

They've all been here before, standing on the thin line between life and death. They're assassins. And one templar. There are worse things out there than death- for example, the end of the world. So there's really only one choice.

Desmond turns around and puts his hand on the softly pulsing sphere.

The pain is something he hadn't even thought about, but it's here now, in full force, like something squeezing him from every angle. His body hurts. His mind hurts. His hand feels like its glued to the sphere. The apple flares, and he can't tell what it's doing- trying to help him, or answering the call of its maker, killing him faster.

Then there's one more enormous pulse of pain, and he slumps to the ground. His eyes are open, but everything is black. He can feel the ground under him, painfully rough, and, suddenly, the apple in his hand. It's leaving him, like a rat abandoning a sinking ship. And somehow it's this, more than anything else, that drives it home.

He's going to die.

And he's going to die alone. There's no one else in his head. Just him. He can't move, not so much as an inch. He's helpless. Completely helpless, crumpled on the ground like a thrown away piece of garbage.

Then he hears dim voices, and feels a hand on his face.

_"Requiescat in pace, _Desmond."

**-/-**

**This chapter makes me very upset. That is all.**


	67. Chapter 67

Altair can feel it when Desmond dies. For a second, everything goes cold, and he has to blink a few times to clear the darkness from the edges of his vision. But it's more than that. It's not just physical, but mental, too. There's something missing from his mind, and he can feel the hole it left. He can't stop feeling it, like probing a missing tooth with his tongue.

He looks around at the other three; Connor has his face turned away so that no one can see it, and Ezio is crouched over Desmond's body, closing his eyes. All Altair can see of him are hunched shoulders and a bowed head. Haytham has his eyes fixed on the opposite wall, and when Altair follows his gaze, he sees her.

Juno. She looks a lot more solid than before, but still not all there. She smiles a slow, lazy smile at Altair as he crosses the room, and he stops when they're standing less than a foot away from each other. Standing this close, it's obvious how tall she is- seven feet at least, Altair decides- and he has to look up to meet her mocking gaze.

"Are you going to threaten me?" she asks.

"No," Altair says. "Not a threat. A warning." He can't see the others behind him, but he knows they're there. "Stay away from humanity."

"Is that all?" Juno laughs. "I'll do what I like, _child_, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. What were you planning to use? Those apples of yours?" Her voice, which had started off low and menacing, begins to rise. "My people created them. I know everything they are capable of- better than any of you do. We created technologies better than that, ones that will make the apples look like the toys they are!" By the end, she's shouting, and just on cue, at the last word- all the lights go off.

Altair blinks and looks around, but even in eagle vision, he can't see a thing. And it's not only dark, but quiet, too. Silent. Altair blinks, then rubs his foot against the stone ground underneath him. He can feel it, but even that makes no sound.

Before he can even start to wonder what's going on- or why- a single light appears in the middle of the room. He turns, and sees Desmond's apple still lying on the floor where it fell, glowing in a way that doesn't look at all familiar. He's used to its usual golden light, but this is different- it's light without color, light that doesn't illuminate. It's bright, bright enough that Altair knows he should be able to see everything in the room, but instead, all he can see is himself and the apple.

Then it pulses once, and Altair blacks out.

When he comes to, it's because he can hear voices and footsteps nearby. Loud voices, and a lot of footsteps. He gets unsteadily to his feet- his head is pounding- and looks around. Things look different than they did before the lights went out. Juno's gone, and so is Desmond's apple. But those aren't the only changes.

Ezio, Connor, and Haytham are still on the ground, unconscious and very very solid. _Visibly _solid, the way they're only supposed to be in their own times. He looks down at his hand and makes a fist. Also visible. Whoever it is he can hear in the temple outside, they're going to make their way back there and find the group in only a few minutes.

He gets Ezio up first. The older assassin starts to get up, rubbing the back of his head.

"Men outside," Altair tells him.

Ezio looks around the room, understands, and nods. Altair moves on to Connor, who's a little harder to wake up. Finally, Altair growls in frustration and says, "Come on, Connor."

"No."

"You have to," Altair says. "Someone's coming."

"No," Connor repeats, getting to his feet. "I mean- I'm not Connor."

"Haytham?" Altair asks. "Alright, good, you're back in your own bodies. Now come on."

Ezio gets Connor to his feet and the four of them manage to slip into the main room of the temple and into the shadows before anyone can see them. From there, they watch in silence as two dozen men and women set up shop. They bring in floodlights and computers, and get to work. Every piece of equipment left behind by the assassins is carefully packed up and shipped out. Then they get to the room with Desmond's body in it.

Two men carry him out in a body bag, and Altair sees Haytham go tense, then remembers that the Kenways are back in their bodies, and it's _Connor _asking- "Why aren't we doing anything?" he leans forward, closer to Altair so no one else will hear. "Shouldn't we do something?"

"Not until we know what's going on here," Altair says.

"But Desmond-"

"Is dead," Altair says, a little more harshly and a little more loudly than he intended.

"Quiet," Ezio whispers, and Altair drops his voice.

"These men are from Abstergo," he says. "See the logos on their equipment?"

"So that means templars," Connor says. They both glance at Haytham, who crosses his arms and stares back.

"So that means be quiet until they leave," Ezio says, and Altair turns to look at him.

"When did you start speaking English?" he asks.

"What?"

Now that he's looking for it, Altair can see faint yet familiar lines on Ezio's skin. "Well, at least we know where Desmond's apple ended up," he says.

"That... is worrying," Ezio says. "It's not poisonous or anything, is it?"

Altair only looks at him. "Yes," he says at least. "That's why I've had one in me for months and I'm still completely fine."

Not long after that, the Abstergo men start searching every inch of the temple, and while they're distracted at the back, the group escape through the front. There are more men outside, but the four of them get past easily. Two master assassins, a templar grandmaster, and Connor- who's extremely skilled in his own right. The half dozen guards waiting outside never even know they're there. Although to be fair, three are asleep, one's eating a sandwich as big as his face, one's taking a smoke break around the corner, and the last one's playing a game on his phone. A crowd of children could have passed through without being stopped.

And so they run.


	68. Chapter 68

Nobody talks much that day, but the next morning, when they all wake up, still in 2012, and still visible, it's obvious that they need to make a plan. Sitting in the forest less than five miles from the temple isn't a good long term strategy, so they gather together and talk shop.

They find a clearing on the edge of the trees, which leaves Connor feeling irrationally disgruntled. When he knew this forest, it had extended on for miles past this point, but now there's a neighborhood there, dozens of identical houses in neat rows. He sits on a tree stump with his back to the houses, trying to pretend like they're not there. His father hesitates, then leans against a tree nearby, arms crossed, watching the other two. Ezio stands next to him, and Altair sits cross legged between Ezio and Connor, completing the circle.

"So," Altair says, and everyone looks toward him. "It looks like we're not leaving here any time soon."

"Why not?" Connor asks. "It had something to do with what Desmond's apple did in the temple, right?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Altair says. "But before you ask- no, I don't know how or why. It was acting differently."

"Acting?" Haytham repeats. "It's a piece of metal. It doesn't do things on its own."

"Trust me," Altair says. "Working with the apples isn't like using a tool. It's more like dealing with an especially stubborn person."

"Like you," Ezio adds.

"Hmm." Haytham shoots him an unamused look. "Clever." He turns back to Altair. "Alright, so accepting that you're the expert, what you're saying is that we're here until the apple decides to send us home."

"Yes."

Haytham heaves a sigh. "Perfect."

"So until that happens, we need to find a way to live... here," Connor says. "And now."

They all sit in silence for several minutes, dwelling on this unpleasant prospect. They could do it, probably. Between them, they have enough knowledge of 2012 to get by, thanks to months sharing a head with Desmond. They can live. But what will they _do._

There's only one answer to that, but there's an obvious sticking point. Ezio brings it up first. "We need to find Juno," he says. "And that means working with the assassins."

Looking at Haytham, Altair says, "You can leave now, or you can stay. But make your choice, and don't expect to be able to change it later."

"It's not a hard choice," Haytham says. "Of course I'm staying."

The other three stare at him, and he smirks, clearly enjoying it. "Don't be so surprised," he says. "This isn't a question of assassins and templars. Juno, and whatever she's planning, is bad news for everyone."

"And that's all you need?" Ezio asks. "To work with the same people you've spent most of your life trying to destroy?"

"It goes both ways, doesn't it?" says Haytham. "And you've spent a lot more time killing templars than I have assassins."

"Why are you really staying with us?" Connor asks.

"I just told you," Haytham snaps.

"Part of it, maybe," says Connor. He's spent most of his time over the past few months with no one but his father for company. "I know you're lying."

Haytham shrugs. "All right," he says. "I told you about the... dream I had."

"What dream?" Altair interrupts, but Haytham ignores him.

"I spoke to my father," Haytham continues. "And he as much as told me that he's going to get caught up in all this. He told me Desmond was going to die-"

"And you didn't say anything?" Ezio demands.

"It just happened," Connor says quickly, because Ezio looks ready to start drawing blood. "He told me right away. Then ten minutes later, we were all in the temple and it was too late anyway."

"Fine," says Ezio. "So you don't want your dad to get involved."

"I don't think I can avoid him being pulled into this," Haytham says. "But... he is my father."

"Alright," Ezio says. "Fine." His expression softens a little. "I can understand that."

"Now that we're all find with Haytham coming," Altair says. "We need to decide where we're actually going. I'm going to assume no one knows where to find the assassins in this century?"

"The templars do," Ezio says. "They found the temple."

"Just lucky they didn't find it before the others got out," says Altair. "But that is a good point. The templars have been picking off the assassins for months, and that means they know where they are, or they know how to find them."

"The templars are tied to Abstergo," Connor says. "That makes them a lot easier to find than the assassins. They can't just disappear when someone gets close."

"And conveniently enough," Haytham says, "There was a whole group of them less than an hour from here yesterday. They're probably gone by now, but it's a start."

"Let's go," Ezio says.

"Wait," Altair says. "The way we are now, we'll just draw attention." Connor looks at him blankly, and Altair offers him a faint smile. "Clothes, Connor. Modern clothes."

"Fine," says Connor. "We go shopping, and then we go find us some templars."

"And Juno," says Ezio.

"And my father," says Haytham.

"And Desmond's body," says Altair quietly. "He deserves more than whatever the templars have waiting for him."

The rest of them nod, and then Connor says- "This... this is a terrible plan."

"But it's all we have." Altair stands up and nods. "Let's make it work."

**-/-**

**I just remembered that this story was originally going to be a one shot, and started laughing.**


	69. Chapter 69

**-/- October 2013-/-**

**-/- Ten months later-/-**

Ezio takes his coffee to one of the cafe's outdoor tables and sits down with it. Overhead speakers pump music out, just loud enough to keep him from focusing. He pulls a phone out of his jacket pocket and sends a text to Haytham.

_Next time, I pick the meeting place._

He doesn't expect an answer, and he doesn't get one. If Haytham's doing his part of the plan, then right about now he'll be too busy to answer his phone. Or he's messed up and now he's dead, but Ezio doubts that. Almost grudgingly, over the past ten months, he's come to respect the man's skills. And maybe he can admit that Haytham isn't all that bad, as a person.

Still, if Haytham finds one more coffee place full of overcaffinated college students or organic health nuts to use as a meeting place, Ezio's going to need to have a serious conversation with him.

"Bad day?" Connor asks, settling himself into the chair across from Ezio.

"Did you know I don't even like coffee?" Ezio asks.

"Yes," Connor says. "That's why my father keeps picking these places to meet in."

"I knew it," Ezio mutters. "Never mind. How did your part go?"

"Fine," says Connor. "There's one Abstergo guard that won't be coming in for work tomorrow. He's new, too. So no one should notice."

"Good," says Ezio.

"If we're lucky," Connor adds.

Ezio's about to say something when Haytham drops into the last chair at the table. "Luck has nothing to do with it," he says. "If something goes wrong and you can't adapt, that's your own fault."

"This is why we have such a close relationship," says Connor, but there's no malice in his voice, and Ezio has to hide a smile. Ten month s. In that time, the four of them have somehow grown into what could almost be a real family. Not exactly a normal family, but maybe the best any of them can hope for under the circumstances. And Ezio likes seeing Connor and Haytham getting along. He has a soft spot for fathers and sons.

"Is Altair going to be back by tomorrow morning?" Haytham asks Ezio.

"He better be," says Connor. "We're doing all this work to get him in, if he doesn't show up-"

"He'll be here," Ezio says. "He's using time travel. How could he possibly be late?" Ezio and Altair both have apples, but Ezio hasn't managed to make his do more than translate for him. Whenever they need someone to do any time travel, it falls to Altair.

"I still don't know why Altair's going in tomorrow," Connor says. "I think it's too much of a risk."

"He's the only option," says Haytham. "They know both our faces."

"Fine," Connor says. "Ezio can do it."

"I just spent the entire day breaking into their offices and planting files," Haytham snaps. "We're not changing the plan now."

"They have all the footage of Desmond in the animus with his memories, though," Connor says. "They'll match his face with their records and we'll be done." He leans forward a little so he's on the edge of his chair. "Ten months of tracking down Abstergo. Finding out which division is interested in Edward Kenway. Getting Altair into the Sample 17 project. All the surveilence. That was a lot of work, and we _still _haven't found anything to lead us to the assassins, or Juno. The closest we've come is- is grandfather." He stumbles over the word a little, but recovers. "And as soon as they match those records, we're done."

Ezio nods. "You're right," he says. "But here's the thing. Juno hasn't made her move yet, so we still have time to find her. And in the meantime, this is the only way we've been able to find into Abstergo. Their entertainment division is the only one that hires from the public. We've been looking for a way in for ten months. This is it. And yes, Connor, you're right- if they can match Altair's face, or genetics, or _anything _with their records, we're done."

"Exactly," says Connor.

"Which is why Altair's gone back in time to steal them," Ezio says. He takes a sip of his coffee and instantly regrets it. "Let's get out of here," he says, and the three of them stand, gathering their things and getting ready to go. "Oh," Ezio says, as if it's an afterthought. "Haytham?"

"What?"

"Next time, we are not meeting in a coffee place."


	70. Chapter 70

Something unexpected happens when Altair uses the apple to go back a year. The plan is to sabotage the animus in the past, before Desmond ever climbs into it. With any luck, the sabotage will keep Abstergo from making records of the sessions, without completely destroying the machine. They want to avoid that, because if Desmond doesn't use the animus, Altair never gets inside his head, and can't go back in time to change anything... basically, it's a paradox, and Altair has no idea how to handle something like that.

The plan is simple, an in and out trip. Altair even knows exactly how to do it- all that time hanging around the temple while Desmond was in Connor's memories, listening in on conversations and watching the assassins at work is paying off in unexpected ways. He doesn't even have to access the computer, just break a loose piece off the animus itself.

He uses the apple to travel to the specific moment he needs to be in. Too soon, and someone's likely to notice and fix the animus. Too late, and they'll still be able to capture some footage. He chooses the morning of the day Desmond is first taken to Abstergo.

The room with the animus is a lot brighter than Altair remembers it from his brief visit almost a year ago. It's not a prison yet, just a room with unusual furniture. The smell of cleaning products lies over everything, and Altair can't help but make a face as he steps toward the animus. Even under the overbearing stench, he can make out the tang of blood. Or maybe that's in his mind, because he knows what's happened in this room.

He's spent a lot of time over the last ten months understanding Abstergo's security, so he feels fairly confident in assuming they won't bother with security recordings on an empty room. External cameras- yes. Cameras in areas with employee traffic- also yes. When Desmond is brought in and set up in the animus, they'll turn the cameras on for him, too.

Right now, though, the cameras are off, and the animus lies unprotected, almost like it's waiting for him. As he draws close, he can hear the animus humming softly to itself, and he can't resist stopping to look at it.

This animus is not a nice looking machine. It's big and ugly, one long slab of metal that looks like it must be incredibly uncomfortable to lie on for any length of time. The humming grows louder, and Altair realizes that it's not really a friendly hum. It's hungry, and maybe a little angry. Or maybe he's just reading too much into what is basically a collection of computers and machinery. Anyway, it's this specific animus that first introduced him to Desmond and started... everything. However much he dislikes it, Altair has to admit that it's sort of a big deal to see it again.

There are footsteps in the hall outside, close and coming closer. Altair crouches down and there, at the base of the animus, and there's the piece he needs, exactly where he expects it to be. External storage- without it, the video from the animus can still be displayed in real time, but not stored and referred to later. He pulls it out and then, with a confidence that comes from months of practice, uses the apple to disappear with it, back to 2013.

As he leaves, he glances toward the door, half curious who the footsteps belong to. He catches a glimpse of three heavily muscled men carrying an unconscious person between them. He knows its Desmond without even looking- after all, who else would they be bringing in on this particular day?

For just a second, he hesitates. He could step in right now, and prevent everything that's about to happen. It wouldn't even be hard. The guards aren't expecting a fight, and the way they carry themselves tell Altair that they wouldn't put up much of a struggle even if they were ready.

But he takes just a second too long to make up his mind, and abruptly finds himself back in the future, on the other side of the world from that particular Abstergo building, still holding the animus piece he went back to get.

A chill, brisk wind picks up abruptly, and Altair pulls the hood up on his jacket and thrusts his hands into his pocket. He's in an alleyway, three blocks from the apartment that's been their safe house for the past few months. It's dirty, so covered in trash and dead leaves that he can barely see the concrete ground under his feet. It matches his mood.

Altair tosses the animus part onto a pile of trash that's been collecting against a building for weeks, and hurries out to the main street. His mind, though, is still in the past, replaying over and over his last few seconds at Abstergo. This isn't the first time he's thought about changing the past. Saving the people he couldn't save without advanced knowledge. He could make peoples' lives better.

But he's never done it, because he knows that once he starts, he'll never stop. Maybe once, that wouldn't have stopped him. Before Desmond, before the apple, he wouldn't have given it a second thought. He's seen a lot since then. He's seen people throughout history make the same mistakes over and over. It all comes down to power. If he was to use the apple to rewrite history, he knows that he'll make those same mistakes. Only he's playing with time, and the consequences would be unimaginably worse.

And besides, rewriting history is something a templar would do. It would be about ordering the world the way he wants it, about taking away free will and exchanging it with his will.

That's just not something he's willing to do.


	71. Chapter 71

Ezio spends his morning on top of the building across the street from Abstergo, watching every person that goes in or out of the building. He's passed more than one day doing the exact same thing, perched on a rooftop until the business day ends and the employees clear out.

There's no unusual activities this morning. On the street, eagle vision shows him a steady trickle of gray dotted with the occasional red of a security guard. Altair's supposed to be in at 1:00, but so far it looks like no one inside has any idea that today is at all important.

It should have made him feel better to see that there's no increased security, but instead, as the morning wears on, Ezio gets more worried. Altair shouldn't be able to walk right in without opposition. He's never seen a plan go that well.

But, at 12:30, he sees a single dot of blue- the first one he's ever seen in this area- walk up the street and disappear into the Abstergo building. Ezio nods and forces himself to relax. He's in. Maybe he's worried over nothing. Maybe, just this once, the plan's going to go exactly the way they want it to. It's not like there's even that much risk, so maybe...

It's all down to Altair now, and Ezio has no doubt he'll be able to get into an animus. What happens after that is anyone's guess, but that's a problem for later. Honestly, Ezio expects chaos. He's just about to head down from the roof when he sees another blue dot on the ground.

"Huh." Interest suddenly picqued, Ezio crouches on the lip of the roof and stares down. From this height, there's no real hope of being able to see anything, but he knows better than to go down and risk being seen so close to the building. So he stays where he is, and waits, and is eventually rewarded with a _third _blue person. It's a little after 1:00 when the last of them goes in, and maybe five minutes later that one of them comes back out.

Ezio makes a snap decision. Before his target can get out of his sight, Ezio runs to the edge of the roof and leaps off it to the one next door. Free running in this century isn't fun- the buildings are too similar to one another for that. Most of the time, they look like they were built all at once from the same mold. And it isn't easy, either, because there are bigger spaces to leap, and the walls are too smooth to climb, and there are cameras everywhere. As soon as he's far enough from Abstergo, Ezio drops down to the street, where he follows his target at a distance until they turn onto an empty side street.

With no one around, Ezio quickly closes the distance between them, moving soundlessly until he's only a few feet behind. She's a woman, a little shorter than he is, hair pulled back and stuffed into a cap. Ezio grabs her by the shoulder, just hard enough to stop her without being threatening, and as she turns, he recognizes Rebecca.

In the second when they both stand and stare at each other in frozen surprise, Ezio finds part of himself wondering if maybe his eyes are starting to go. Then he decides that no, he's not that old yet (and maybe if he keeps telling himself that, he'll believe it), and anyway she's clearly gone to some trouble to disguise herself.

"Wow." Rebecca twists away from his grip, and he drops his hand to his side, letting her go. "You-" her eyes are wide, and she's got one hand in her pocket, probably fingering a weapon of some kind. "Sorry, it's just..." she stares hard at his face. "You look _exactly _like someone else."

She's talking about him, Ezio realizes. Technically, they've never met face to face (not counting the times when he borrowed Desmond's face). And it's not like time travel is going to be the first thing that comes to most peoples' minds. He didn't even recognize her until he saw her face, and at least he's used to seeing her in this century. She's only ever seen him in animus recordings. He smiles and sticks out a hand. "Ezio Auditore," he says. "We've met." Sort of, anyway.

Still staring at him, she takes the offered hand, then abruptly releases it and steps away. "No," she says. Her arms are crossed, and her whole body is screaming distrust. "No way. I don't believe you're him."

"I am him," Ezio says, then corrects himself. "Me." This is one of those conversations that is so strange, he doesn't even know how to have it.

"Fine," Rebecca says. "Prove it. You said we met- when was that?"

"Twice," Ezio says. "When Desmond was in his coma. Once in your van, and then once at the airport."

"Okay," Rebecca says. She uncrosses her arms but doesn't relax any further than that. "There's no way... I mean, yea, there's no one else that would know that, but-"

"You don't believe me."

"I can't," she says. "I mean- I didn't think anyone else that knew about that..."

"But it's still possible," Ezio sighs. He can understand her suspicion, and part of him can even agree with it. After all, how many assassins, how many friends, has she seen die? It doesn't make things any easier for him, though, and he's not sure what more proof he can offer.

As if on cue, his apple bursts into light. It's been dormant throughout the whole conversation, or nearly so. The energy it takes to translate English for him is barely anything, but now the familiar pattern of lines breaks out all over his body. The light is silver instead of gold, something Ezio has never been able to figure out. It's been like that since he got it, and so far nothing bad's happened, so he tries not to think about it.

"You, ah- picked up a souvenir from the temple," Rebecca says, and suddenly she's smiling. "We thought the templars had the apple."

"No," Ezio says. "I think it decided it liked me better."

"Well I'm glad it did," Rebecca says. "I've been so worried- they tracked us through the computers again. I guess it was easier since they'd already done it. And so it would have been my fault if they got their hands on it. Seriously, this is the first good news we've had in-" she makes a face. "Ten months, honestly."

"We should talk," Ezio says.

Rebecca nods. "But not here," she adds. "Do you want to just turn off the lights?"

"I would if I could," Ezio grumbles. "The apple pretty much has a life of its own. It'll go off when it wants to."

"You can't control it?" Rebecca asks.

"I could if it wasn't so stubborn-" the apple abruptly flares a little brighter, than fades out completely. Ezio looks down to check that it's completely gone, then back up at Rebecca. "See?" he sighs. "Stubborn and dramatic."


	72. Chapter 72

It's his first time in the building, and Altair is surprised by how bright it seems. He's not exactly expecting something dark or dungeonlinke, but it's almost unnerving to walk in and see this space. It's bright and airy, and there's even a little stand selling coffee. Altair treats it with a skeptical look from across the lobby. Even knowing that most of the people in the entertainment division are normal employees rather than templars, it's strange to see something so normal in the middle of the lobby. Then he frowns, because there's something strange about the guy selling the coffee, too. Before he can get any closer for a better look, a voice interrupts him.

"Are you here for the interview?"

It's a voice that sounds like its owner is trying way too hard to sound cheerful. He turns, and nods at the woman standing just behind him. "Right."

"Well, my name's Melanie." She glances down at a folder in her arms. "And it looks like your paperwork's all been approved, so why don't you come with me and we can get started?"

That's the first test passed. Everyone hired by any branch of Abstergo, from the CEO all the way down to the janitors, has to go through an extensive background check. Altair doesn't have a background- at least not one he wants them knowing about. The papers in Melanie's hands haven't actually been approved, because they were planted by Haytham the day before.

She leads him into a room that could almost have been pulled out of a doctor's office. It's clean and brightly lit, and smells faintly of disinfectant. Instead of an examination table or some other medical equipment, however, an animus sits in the middle of the room.

"It's not the most up to date technology," Melanie says, pointing at the animus. "But the desktop units need to be individually calibrated, and it's just easier to use this for the interview process."

"It's fine," Altair says, because something she's clearly expecting something from him.

"Good," Melanie says. "Alright, so this is a fairly straightforward test, just to see how well your synchronization rate is. The subject we're most interested in is Edward Kenway, so I'll start you off in one of his memories. If that works, I'll keep you in for a while, but if your rate's too low I'll try a few other people in his bloodline. The entire family is honestly just fascinating."

A little too fascinating, in Altair's opinion. If they'd kept their attention on Edward, instead of going through the memories of everyone else in his family, Altair wouldn't have to worry so much about Connor or Haytham getting recognized.

"Your application said you had some experience working with animi before," Melanie goes on. Altair nods, because technically he does. It's just been mostly on the other side of the machine than what she's expecting. "Then I don't need to tell you what to expect," Melanie says, and directs him into the animus.

Once he's down, it takes Melanie almost a full minute to get the animus up and running. It's possibly the longest minute of Altair's life. He's not used to being down on his back, especially in a place like this. If anything were to happen right now, he'd be completely helpless.

Just as he's mentally going through all the ways this could go wrong, Melanie announces that she's about to launch the program, and the world around him dissolves into blackness.


	73. Chapter 73

It could have gone a lot worse.

He's still alive, after all, and barely even injured. Just really, really wet. The island he's washed up on isn't all that bad. It isn't even deserted. There's at least one other survivor from the storm, and most importantly, that survivor has coin. Anyway, he's already spent the morning being shipwrecked. It's not like the afternoon can be that much worse.

All he has to do is track down Duncan Walpole (and Duncan Walpole's money), and he'll be a rich man. Or richer, anyway- he's not fool enough to think the man has all his coin on him. But it's more than Edward has right now.

The island's a big place, and it doesn't take long to realize Walpole knows how to hide. Unluckily for him, Edward has nothing better to do and all the time in the world to do it in. There's an old tower on a hill that looks like it has a good view of the island, and Edward makes his way up it as quick as he can. It's not quite as easy as climbing a ship's rigging, but he makes it up alright. He crouches on the top and looks around, searching out Walpole.

At first there's nothing, but then Edward catches a flash of movement below him, and grins broadly. "Got you," he mutters, and tenses up, ready to jump down. Something stirs at the back of his mind, but Edward shakes it away like a dog with fleas and pushes it back. There are more important things to worry about.

He leaps off the tower to the ground and goes tearing after Walpole, who can run fast for someone that looks like a drowned rat. By the time he finally manages to catch up with the man, Edward's out of breath and more than a little angry at being led all over the island. Maybe Walpole could have made it off the island alive if he hadn't put Edward in such a bad mood. Maybe not. It doesn't really matter, Edward decides, and starts digging through the man's pockets.

He finds a few trinkets, a map, and not as much coin as he'd hoped for. Walpole's also wearing two blades strapped to his arms, which Edward examines for a moment before tossing them away. They're well crafted, but they don't have the reach of a sword, and how much help could they be in an open fight, anyway?

He pockets everything else and turns away, only to stop three feet on. For some reason, leaving the blades behind doesn't feel right. Some part of his mind won't let him walk off without them, and he's not really sure why. Edward shakes his head hard and starts walking again. Let the blades stay behind and rust- he has no reason to care.

And that should have been the last he thought about it, but it isn't. For a long time after, for days and weeks, whenever he's alone, or things get quiet, he goes back to that moment in his mind. It's the first hint he has that there's something wrong with him, but it's far from the last.

He can feel someone watching him, all the time, no matter where he goes or what he does, like someone standing just behind him, right where he can't see them. It's probably the most disturbing thing he's ever felt, and the longer it goes on, the more stubbornly convinced he gets.

Whoever this person is, whatever they want with him, he's determined to have nothing to do with it. So he blocks it out, does his best to ignore it. He pushes it away, drowns it out with fighting and sailing and _anything _else. It works, mostly. He can still feel the watcher, but not as close anymore, just waiting.

Waiting for what, he doesn't quite know.


	74. Chapter 74

When Connor goes into the kitchen around 6:00 to find something to eat, he's surprised to find Altair already there. His face is absolutely expressionless, but his body language leaves no doubt that something's gone wrong. "What happened?" he asks.

"Your grandfather," Altair says. "Is the most stubborn man I have ever met."

Connor takes a moment to consider the gravity of this statement. "You realize we have four different kinds of bread in the apartment?" Three assassins and one templar, living in a series of tiny apartments for ten months- there comes a point when it's just easier not to argue the small issues.

"I do," Altair says. "Edward is worse."

"So today didn't go well?" Connor asks.

"No," Altair says. "Where's everyone else?"

"Ezio hasn't come back yet," Connor says, and frowns. He actually would have expected Ezio back hours ago.

"What about your father?"

"He said he was going to get food," Connor says. The less said about that, the better- he's been on edge the entire day, and Connor is not looking forward to him finding out that they're no closer to finding anything out about his father. "What happened with Edward?"

"Nothing," Altair says.

"Nothing? You mean the animus didn't work, or-"

"It did," says Altair, and makes an annoyed sound in the back of his throat. "Highest sync rate they've ever seen on the project, apparently."

"Well that makes sense," Connor says. "I mean, the whole project is based on the DNA they stole off Desmond's body."

Altair laughs- he doesn't laugh often, and it doesn't sound natural now. "Apparently it was a 'generous donation'," he says. "That's what they tell the employees, anyway." He shakes his head, and goes on. "So the animus worked, but Edward doesn't want to listen."

"What did you say to him?"

"He wouldn't let me that far into his head," Altair admits.

"But my father had that dream," says Connor. "He said Edward knew about all of... you know, this."

"Which is why," Altair sighs, "I will be going back in tomorrow, and the day after that, and however long it takes to get this figured out."

"I don't like this," Connor says. "One day in there- that's one thing. But we don't know how long this might take."

"Normally I would agree," Altair says. "But this is time travel."

"I hate time travel."

"We all hate time travel," Altair says. "It doesn't mean we can just ignore it and start making paradoxes. Besides, where else are we going to go? It's been ten months, and we still don't know where the assassins are-"

The apartment door opens and Ezio comes in, looking extremely excited about something. "I found the assassins," he announces.

Connor and Altair look at each other. "That couldn't have been timed better," Connor says.

Altair nods. "At least something good happened today."

"What happened?" Ezio asks. He's no longer smiling.

"Edward Kenway is the most stubborn man I've ever met," Altair says.

Ezio gives him a disbelieving look. "You know we have to get four kinds or bread, right?"


	75. Chapter 75

The next morning, Altair finds himself walking back into Abstergo, wondering not for the first time how his life had taken him here. It's not easy to remember that there was a time when he thought his life would be spent in and around Masyaf, performing assassinations and doing the will of the order. Now he has a nine to five job at a company controlled by templars. He's undercover, not changing sides, but it still leaves a foul taste in his mouth.

He has no idea how long he'll be doing this, walking through the front doors like there's nothing wrong, like he doesn't know what they're doing behind closed doors. It could be a day, it could be months- it all depends how long Edward decides to stay stubborn, and Altair suspects that's going to be a very long time.

Just because Edward is blocking him out, it doesn't mean he can't see what's going on in the man's head. From what he can tell, Edward's going to keep blocking him out as long as he can out of sheer spite. If Haytham and Connor are any indication of how bloody minded the Kenways can be, this is going to be a long haul.

He walks past the coffee stand in the lobby without looking at it, but he can feel Shaun staring at him until he disappears into the elevator. With any luck, no one's noticed the stare, because as far as anyone knows, they've never met. Later, when they have more time, everyone's going to have to get together and figure out how this is going to work. Between Altair in an animus, Shaun at the coffee stand, and Rebecca acting as a courier, there are a lot of undercover assassins in the building.

The phrase 'too many cooks in the kitchen' comes to mind. If they're not very, very careful, someone's going to notice.

The entire floor is empty when he gets upstairs, apart from a receptionist near the elevator who smiles at Altair as he comes in but doesn't interrupt her phone call for him. Altair walks past and surveys the room with a critical eye. It's not the kind of place he's used to working in, to put it mildly. There's too much light, too much color, and security cameras watching every inch of floor space. Bright and welcoming on the outside, but underneath…

But this is what he has to work with, for now. Someday all this will be over. Someday he'll go home. But today, he has a job to do, and knowing there are other assassins in the building only makes that job more important. He won't know what Shaun and Rebecca are here looking for until he gets the chance to sit down and talk to them, he won't know what that reason is.

He makes it to his desk and then sits in his chair for nearly half an hour as people start filtering in around him, exchanging greetings and logging into their computers. He'd planned to already be in the simulation when his new coworkers came in to start the work day. The less interaction he has with anyone here, the better.

But something's wrong. Everything's wrong, really. He shouldn't be here, sitting at this desk, in this building, holding an animus headset and trying to convince himself that this isn't going to end badly. He's been on the other end of the animus dozens of times, while Desmond went through his memories. He even relived Ezio's memories through Rebecca's animus once. But this is different. This is willingly removing his mind from the present day while he sits in an Abstergo building.

"First day?"

When he looks up, Rebecca's leaning against the wall of his… what are they even called? In most places, it would be called a cubicle, but here they're round.

"What?" he asks.

"I haven't seen you around before," Rebecca says. Her tone is casual, like they're just two strangers meeting in passing. "And I'm up here almost every day- courier for the company." She holds up her shoulder bag.

"Oh," Altair nods. "First day. Yes."

"I can tell," Rebecca says. "You have that first day look. Trust me, I've seen it on the face of everyone that's ever gone into an animus. But, ah-" She grins. "It'll be fine. There's always someone watching, just in case something does go wrong." She could be talking about the other Abstergo employees, or the omnipresent security cameras, but she isn't.

"Thanks." Altair says, and means it. The four of them- himself, Ezio, Haytham, and Connor- have been on their own for nearly ten months. He's almost forgotten that there are other assassins in this era.

Rebecca nods and moves away from his desk. Altair watches her go, then puts the animus headset on. Enough feeling sorry for himself- he has a job to do.

**-/-**

**Going to be honest here, it's been really difficult to write these last few chapters, because ACIV is the biggest departure from canon in this fic so far, which means I have to spend more time explaining what's going on. And then I waste a whole chapter on Altair's nerves. Hopefully next chapter will be Edward (haven't planned that far ahead yet). He's fun to write. :)**


	76. Chapter 76

The day he first sails to the island used by the assassins as a headquarters is a strange day for Edward. The big surprise of the day is Kidd, and Edward can't help feeling a little betrayed by his secret keeping. It's always been obvious that Kidd has his own secrets, but Edward's never suspected anything like this. He's not sure if finding out Kidd is one of them changes his opinion of the man or not.

As the day wears on, though, a bigger problem worms its way into the front of his mind. It's this… whatever it is, the thing that lives in the back of his mind. Usually, it keeps itself at a distance and watches, almost like it's waiting for Edward to let it in. And if that's the case, it can just keep waiting for the rest of its life, because Edward has absolutely no intentions of doing that.

Something about being on this island is changing that, though. It's not that the thing is forcing itself on his mind, but its feelings on this place and these people are so strong that Edward can't help feeling them. He feels weirdly at home among the assassins, like he's been here before. Or… not _here _exactly, but somewhere similar. He can pick out the novices from among the rest of the assassins, even if he can't explain to himself how they're different. He can tell where the order has kept up old traditions, and where they've made changes to adapt to the time and place they're in.

They're not his thoughts, and it's not okay. He can live with this thing in the back of his head- it's not exactly fun, but he's sort of gotten used to it. Normally, it doesn't do anything, doesn't say anything, just watches and waits. It comes and goes- sometimes it's like a thing in his head, sometimes it's more like being watched by someone just out of sight, sometimes it's not there at all. He's gotten used to it, but now…

He leaves the island as soon as he can. Away from the assassins, the thing in his head quiets again, and Edward can almost fool himself into thinking it won't come back. Almost, but not quite, and it isn't a risk he much wants to take. Something needs to be done if he ever wants his mind to be _his mind _again. That night, he climbs up to the highest point on the _Jackdaw_, just below the place where the ship's flag flies. It's not somewhere he would normally spend a lot of time, but he's not sure what's going to happen, and he doesn't want anyone else to see.

Once he's alone, Edward closes his eyes and opens his mind. Ever since the thing first came into his mind, he's been drowning it out as much as he can by keeping himself busy with other thoughts and more urgent issues. Now, for the first time, he stops ignoring it. He wants to talk to the thing, at least so they can get some things sorted out. It wants to watch him? Fine. Weird, but fine, and anyway if he was going to complain about it, he probably should have done that months ago. It wants to stick its thoughts in his head? Not fine. Not fine at all.

For just a second, as he opens his mind, there's another person in his head. He catches glimpses of images, memories, thoughts- and then, abruptly, nothing. The thing vanishes, leaving Edward alone. It's not the first time this has happened, but the timing is a little insulting. He makes a rude gesture at the universe at large, and climbs down to the _Jackdaw's _deck. He feels like a fool for even trying, and silently resolves not to make that mistake again. Talking to the thing is only going to make it worse. Ignoring it has worked so far- he just needs to keep doing that.

But he can't quite get rid of the memory of the thing in his head- the strange, overwhelming feeling of another person in a place where he'd never expected anyone to be. It only lasted a moment, there and gone too quickly for Edward to get much out of it. In fact, he only managed to grab one thing out of the onslaught of the thing's mind in his- a name.

Altair.


	77. Chapter 77

Altair is fairly sure Melanie isn't a templar. It's fairly clear that she has no idea what Abstergo is really after (which is unfortunate, because he would have appreciated knowing himself), and she's just too… _cheerful _for it.

Fairly sure- but not completely, because her timing is absolutely awful. He was thirty seconds away from Edward actually letting him in. Letting him in to tell him to get out, most likely, but he could have worked with that. Now- well, now he might never know, because now he's being taken upstairs to be paraded around in front of some corporate higher up. Perfect. It's exactly what he wanted from his day, and he can't even complain without raising suspicions.

Melanie makes small talk the entire way up to Olivier's office, which Altair mostly ignores. Some of the things she's saying- about how they're going to take the footage he's found and market Edward to the public- make him want say something he knows he'll regret. Instead, he finds his mind wandering. Maybe there's another way to get Edward to talk.

If not for the whole sample 17 project, this wouldn't even be an issue. He can time travel- it would be easy to meet Edward in person. But he knows he's not the only one here digging through Edward's memories. He's the only one Edward's aware of, because he's the only one with an apple. But if he physically goes back to talk to Edward, there's too high of a chance someone will notice something is going on. He just has to hope that when he gets back in the animus, Edward will still be willing to talk. Somehow, he doubts it.

He has a brief meeting with Olivier, which he gets through by nodding a lot and saying very little. Finally- _finally_ he's allowed back downstairs, but no sooner has he stepped in the elevator than he hears a voice in his ear.

_"Hey, you- new guy."_

Because it's not enough that Abstergo is watching him eight hours a day. He has to have their technology on his head so they can talk to him whenever he's in the building. "What do you want?" he growls.

"Woah there, no need to be unfriendly," the voice says. "It's John from IT. We met yesterday."

Altair vaguely remembers a pair of legs sticking out from underneath a desk. "Alright. What do you want?"

"Fine," John says. "You don't want to be friendly, that's your problem. I need a favor."

"Why would I do a favor for you?" He's in a hurry to get back to the animus. Probably it won't make a difference, because whatever happens next with Edward has already happened, hundreds of years ago. It doesn't matter if he gets back in the animus five minutes from now or tomorrow. But probably isn't good enough for him right now.

"Because this is me asking nicely," John says. "Come on, it'll only take a few minutes, and I promise you'll see something interesting."

Altair almost tells him to go bother someone else, but stops just before he actually opens his mouth. There's something in his tone- smug and condescending as it may be- that hints at real knowledge. "Fine," he says. "What is 'something interesting'?"

"Follow my instructions to the letter and you'll see," John says, and none of Altair's arguments will get another word out of him. Back downstairs he grudgingly allows John to lead him, like a dog on a leash to one of the many computer terminals on the floor. Or he almost does, because the specific computer John's after is behind a set of locked doors.

"I can't get into this," Altair says. Technically he probably could. After a couple of days in the building he's already started to see a few flaws in some of the internal security. It's not something he wants to tell John, though.

"Of course not," John says. "You'd need level one security clearance for that." Altair can hear rapid keystrokes through his earpiece, and then the lock on the door flashes from red to green. "Which thanks to me, you now have."

Altair raises an eyebrow and checks to make sure the coast is clear before stepping into the room. There are three levels of security in the building, and until now he hasn't been able to access any of them. Whatever John's favor is, it's probably worth being able to get farther into the building.

"Alright," he says. This time, he makes an effort to keep his tone civil. "So what am I in here for?"

"I need you to hack a computer for me," John says.

"I don't know how to hack a computer," Altair says. "Your job is computers, right? Couldn't you do this yourself?"

"I don't want to get caught," John snaps. "That's what you're here for. And I'm uploading a program onto your communicator that will make it easy. Almost like a game."

Altair barely stops himself from growling aloud at John's condescending tone. Just get it done. And besides- when he actually opens the program, it turns out to actually be as easy as John promised. As he works through it, Altair asks, "Why come to me?"

"Because you're new," says John. "And I haven't decided I hate you as much as the others yet."

"That's a ringing endorsement," Altair mutters, and a second later he gets to the file John's after. "Alright, I got it. Why this file?"

"Would you believe me if I told you the woman who works at that desk forgot to pass that file off to a courier before leaving today?"

"No," says Altair.

"Then I won't bother lying to you," John says. "There really is a courier, though, she's waiting downstairs. Oh and by the way, I wouldn't recommend opening that file. I mean, you can, but it's not exactly fun viewing."

Altair already has the file open before John can even warn him away from it. He doesn't mind stealing files from Abstergo, but he wants to know what they are and where they're going before he does anything with them. And it turns out John was right.

He doesn't want to see this file.

It's a video report made by the field agents that went out to the temple in New York to retrieve Desmond's body. So this is how they got his DNA for the Sample 17 project. He wonders what they did with the body.

"You still there, new guy?" John asks, and Altair realizes he's been staring at the computer screen for at least five minutes. The video's been over for several minutes, but he's just sitting there, trying to absorb it all.

"Yea," he says, trying to pretend like nothing's wrong.

"I told you it wasn't nice," John says. "Do you think you can hurry it up, though? Courier's still waiting."

Except there's no way he's giving these files to some random courier just because John tells him to. No way. Not Desmond.

But he can't just stay here, either, because getting caught in an area he's not supposed to be able to access isn't a good idea. He considers just ignoring John and keeping the file to himself, but reconsiders. If he can somehow trick John into thinking he's handed it off without actually doing it, maybe he can keep the security clearance.

"Good," John says in his ear when he gets to the atrium. "She's by the coffee stand."

Altair glances over, and there's Rebecca leaning against the counter and talking to Shaun. Perfect- the one person he actually doesn't mind giving the files to. It does raise new questions, though. How much does John know? Is he an assassin?

He doesn't say any of that, though, because there's too many unfriendly ears listening in. He just transfers the file to her, and after a few lines of small talk, the kind any two strangers might exchange, turns and walks off. He really needs to find out what Rebecca and Shaun are doing at Abstergo.

But first- Edward.

**-/-**

**I so love writing John. He's snarky, he's evil, he's completely insane... he's one of those guys that would creep me out if I met him in real life but he's such an awesome character. :)**


	78. Chapter 78

Ezio hasn't been sleeping at all well, lately. He has dreams- nightmares, but not the kind he can ever remember in the morning. He knows they must be bad, though. Every time he wakes up, it's to aching, overpowering feelings of being trapped and alone.

At first, he tries to ignore it. The dreams could be natural, after all. No matter how he looks at it, he's getting old. He should be in his own century, enjoying whatever time he has left of his life with Sofia. Instead he's here, still working. He should be done by now. He deserves a rest, and it's no surprise that he feels a little lonely.

… only, that's not what's going on. It's something different, something deeper, and it has him worried. It doesn't help much that the dreams first started the same day he got Desmond's apple. The thing refuses to listen to him, or do anything more than act as a translator. Altair's tried to reassure him that it's normal, that it took him months to get it to do anything, and that when Desmond tried to do something with it, he accidentally switched Connor and Haytham. It doesn't help.

It's not just that Ezio doesn't know how to use the apple, although that's true, too. It's that the apple is pretty good at using itself, and that's something neither apple has ever done before. The nightmares. The apple. It's trying to tell him something.

"Ezio?"

He looks up and there's Connor, looking more than a little concerned. The two of them, along with Haytham, are at the apartment, waiting for Altair to get back. The plan is for Rebecca and Shaun to follow him back, because they really need to have a talk about Abstergo before things go any farther.

"Yea?" Ezio asks, and tries a smile. It doesn't feel right.

"You're glowing," Connor says, and Ezio looks down at himself. Bright silver light radiates from every bit of exposed skin. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ezio says.

"What's wrong with your apple?" Connor asks. "I've noticed it does that sometimes. When you're sleeping."

"You watch me when I'm sleeping?"

"It's a small apartment and you glow," Connor says. "We've all noticed, but Altair said it would be better not to say anything."

"But you decided to ask me about it anyway," says Ezio. Connor stays silent, and his only response is a steady stare. Ezio sighs and gives in. "Fine. It's the apple. It's… trying to tell me something, giving me nightmares, alright?" He feels a little foolish admitting that these nightmares have him running scared, but if Connor's judging him for it, he hides it well.

"What kind of nightmares?" Connor asks.

"I don't know," Ezio admits. "I never remember them when I wake up, and I don't really want to."

"Maybe that's the problem," Connor says. "I don't have an apple. I don't know how they work. But maybe if you stop blocking it out, the apple can just deliver its message and go back to leaving you alone."

Ezio doesn't answer for a long time. Then- "Maybe."

"I'll tell you when Altair gets back," Connor says, and moves to the door.

"You think I can just drop everything and figure this out now?" Ezio calls after him. "It's been bothering me for months."

"Then it's about time you get it worked out," Connor says, and leaves the room.

When he's alone, Ezio grumbles a bit, but closes his eyes. Maybe Connor has a point. He takes a deep breath, and opens his mind to the apple.

_Cold, dark, alone, endless pain, burning burning burning up from the inside and the outside and everything's gone, there's nothing left just pain and darkness and this is forever, it goes on and on and never ends, there's no one else, there never will be, maybe there never was, and maybe it doesn't matter, all that matters is the pain and the cold and the dark, and who am I anyway, no one, everyone, too many people and none of them are me, and where am I who am I WHO AM I_

Ezio opens his eyes, breathing heavily. It takes him a second to remember where he is and what's going on. He's still in the apartment, but the lights have shifted and he can tell it's a few hours later than it was when he closed his eyes. He gets up, stretches muscles that feel stiff and heavy, trying to sort through what the apple chose to show him. This entire time, they've been using the apples as tools, or weapons. But this…

"It's not a thing," Ezio says. He says it aloud, because maybe then he can believe it. "It's…"

But here he stops, because he has no idea what it is. All the times he's had people inside his head, he knows the sound of other peoples' thoughts. That's what the apple showed him. It's living inside him. _Living_.

And he's not sure how he feels about that.

It's almost midnight when Altair comes in from the other room, and for a while neither of them says anything. Ezio sits on the bed, trying not to act like his entire world has just been turned upside down. Altair pulls up a chair and sits facing him. Finally, Ezio breaks the silence. "Sorry I missed Rebecca and Shaun."

"Basically they're looking for a place called the Observatory." Altair gives a long sigh. "And they recruited one of Abstergo's IT men to recover data for them. I'll give you the details later, but what happened here?"

"I don't know," Ezio says. "But there's something… wrong with the apple."

"Wrong?" Altair repeats.

"It's in pain," Ezio says. "It's…" he shakes his head. "It's asking for help."

For a very long time, Altair doesn't answer. Then he says, "That's not possible. The apples can't be in pain. They aren't alive. They're tools, incredibly powerful tools that I don't think humans could reproduce, even in this century. But they can't think. They can't ask for help."

"But it did," Ezio says.

"It's not possible," Altair snaps, and for a while they glare at each other, neither one willing to back down. Then Altair sighs, and his next words are calmer. "I'm not saying you don't know what you're doing with the apple, because I don't either. But you've had problems with yours since the second it picked you back at the temple. It doesn't do anything for you other than translate."

"Yours doesn't even do that anymore," Ezio says, which he knows is a weak response. The only reason Altair's apple doesn't help him with English anymore is because he took the time to actually learn it when they decided he'd have to be the one to infiltrate Abstergo. The apple's glowing would have been a giveaway.

Altair ignores the comment. "My point is that whatever you think you heard, or saw… it can't have been real."

"Altair…" Ezio leans forward slightly. "It was screaming."

"Fine," Altair says. "If you're convinced, I'll believe you. Do you think you can find out more?"

"Yes. Maybe." He doesn't want to do that again, not at all. The apple gave him more than words earlier, it gave him the feelings, too. The sense of loss, of pain, of loneliness- it's like nothing he's ever experienced before. It's like someone dying in his head, over and over, every single second. He doesn't want to go back, but he can't just walk away knowing that the apple is still inside him, still feeling… that. He sighs, rubs his face, and looks back at Altair. "I'll let you know."'

**-/-**

**I'm really excited about this stuff with Ezio's apple. I've been waiting for _ages _to get to this part. Now I just have to not mess it up. :|**


	79. Chapter 79

It's shaping up to be a pretty good day for Edward. His crew is happy (rum will do that), the weather is perfect for sailing, and the thing in his head is keeping its distance. Once in a while, the odd piece of knowledge or scrap of memory will leak through from it to him, but mostly Edward's managed to keep his mind out of the thing's head, and that's good. He can still remember how it felt the one time when he let the thing in. Just a flood of… _stuff _that isn't his.

And it's not like he can't handle it- it's not like he's _afraid. _Of course not.

Edward shakes the thought off and tries to listen to what Ade is saying, but they've had this talk about Roberts before, and besides- there's something else not quite right going on, and Edward can't stop himself from looking around, trying to figure out what it is. There's some weird kind of light, coming from he can't even tell where.

"I thought we were looking for something," Ade says, drawing Edward's attention back to him. "It's your crazy mission, remember?"

"Calm down, Ade," Edward says, still half distracted. "We'll find Roberts."

"The sooner the better," Ade says. "I'll be happy when this whole thing is behind us."

"Besides," Edward says loudly, ignoring the complaint. "I didn't know the ship was carrying nothing but rum." Technically, it could have been a lead.

"You always know."

Edward shrugs. It's a side effect of the strange way he sometimes sees the world (the thing in his head called it eagle vision, once, but Edward has no idea why). Sometimes he looks at a thing and just _knows_ about it. "At least the crew's happy again."

"For now." Ade frowns. "Just be careful, Edward. I don't think I'm the only one getting tired of your fairy stories. And I don't think some of them will stick around as long as I have."

Abruptly, the golden light intensifies, and Edward can't stop himself from turning around to try and find the source because it is really starting to bother him, and-

There's a man there, and Edward is absolutely positive that he's never seen him before. Which is a problem, because they're on a ship in the middle of the ocean, and there's no way he could have gotten on without anyone noticing.

"What-"

The man startles, and abruptly vanishes along with the golden light.

"Edward?" Ade asks. "What are you looking at?"

"Didn't you see that?" Edward demands. "There was-" but he stops abruptly, because Ade's giving him a look that tells him very plainly that he didn't see anything. "Never mind."

"Alright," Ade says, but he's still wearing the same expression. He clasps Edward on the shoulder and walks past him. "Maybe you should try getting some sleep tonight."

"Yea," Edward mutters. His mind is racing. "Yea, I'll do that."

There's only one thing to do now. He _needs _to know what the stranger was doing on the _Jackdaw's _deck. He can't just leave the mystery unsolved, but there's only one person he can ask. Mysterious appearances, people in places they shouldn't be- he needs to talk to the thing in his head.

"Altair," he says quietly. It's the name he got from the one time they actually came close to talking. "I have some questions."

**-/-**

**For anyone that's curious, this matches up to chapter 54. Funnily enough, when I wrote that chapter I thought it was farther along in Edward's timeline (ie, he's already in the loop about the apples, time travel, etc), but it turns out that this meeting is what convinced Haytham to talk to Desmond _and _what convinced Edward to talk to Altair. I'm enjoying the symmetry there. :)**


	80. Chapter 80

Altair does his best to go slow. Edward is shaken from his glimpse of Haytham- understandably, because even expecting it, even knowing from Haytham's account that it has to happen at some point, Altair's a little surprised too. He's seen the past and the future, but there's a difference between physically traveling through time and seeing someone he knows at an earlier point in their _personal _time.

He doesn't have time to think about it, though, because he has Edward to deal with right away. And while he's not exactly panicking, he's also not completely calm. If Altair can't deal with this well enough, they might lose Edward completely. It's possible, if Edward decides he doesn't like what he hears, he could end up rejecting Altair completely. If that goes as badly as Desmond's earliest attempts to sync with Haytham, that's the end of his chance at finding the Observatory or getting Edward on their side.

So when Edward actually opens up enough to talk to him, Altair puts aside his own distraction and tries to focus. There's not a lot of privacy on board a ship, but as her captain, Edward at least has his own cabin on the _Jackdaw_. When he gets there, Edward takes a deep breath- Altair can tell he feels stupid sitting alone, talking to himself- and says, "We need to talk."

_"Yes," _Altair agrees.

"I want to know what just happened," Edward says. "I know you know. This is just too much weird to not be connected." Altair starts to answer, but Edward plows right on. "I want to know who he was. And I want to know what you're doing in my head. And-"

_"I'd tell you," _Altair interrupts. _"If you could stop talking long enough to listen."_

"How do you do that?" Edward asks. "You're making me think things."

_"It's just because I'm in your head," _Altair says. _"I can't say anything out loud." _Not without control of Edward's body, anyway, but that's hard to do without some kind of unusual circumstances. Besides- it would probably chase Edward off for good. _"You're only used to hearing yourself in your head, so at first when you hear other people, you hear everything in your own voice."_

_"It's weird," _Edward says, and to Altair's relief, this time he thinks it instead of saying anything out loud. The last thing he needs is someone from Abstergo to hear Edward's half of the conversation.

_"You get used to it."_

Edward shakes his head and mutters something rude. It seems to be directed to the universe at large rather than him, so Altair ignores it. _"Who was the man on deck?" _he asks, and Altair hesitates. If it was up to him, he would have started the story somewhere else, but this is the second time Edward's asked about Haytham. It's obvious he's not going to let the question go until Altair gives him a straight answer.

_"He's your son," _Altair says, and braces for the whirlwind of disbelief that's sure to follow.

Edward doesn't disappoint. When he's calmed down enough to answer, all he says is- _"No."_

_"It's true,"_ Altair says. _"I'm in your head. I _can't _lie to you."_

So far, Edward's kept Altair at a distance, only letting him in far enough to let the two of them talk. But now he draws cautiously closer, delving in a little deeper, far enough to understand the intention behind Altair's words instead of just their surface meanings. _"Fine," _he says eventually. _"You're telling the truth. But how is that even possible? I mean- that guy was older than I am."_

Altair sighs. _"It's a very long story."_

**_-/-_**

**Hey guys, I just want to say thanks for all the reviews/favs/alerts you guys have been giving this story. Seriously, this morning I woke up at 4:30 with a really bad cold to prep for an hour long presentation in my least favorite class. Then I checked my email and saw a bunch of FFN alerts that made my morning not all that bad after all.**

**Oh, also, about the cold- I'm on way too many cold meds right now and if this chapter or the next few sound weird, that's probably why.**

**TL;DR: You guys are awesome and I'm sick.**


	81. Chapter 81

With Altair spending all his days at Abstergo and Ezio locked inside, trying to get the apple to speak to him again, the really awful jobs fall to Haytham and Connor. And, after putting them off for several days, the two of them finally decide they can't delay any longer.

So they go out for groceries.

It's not that the food itself is a problem, Haytham decides. Someone needs to get the food, after all. It's just that the four of them in the apartment have very different tastes- a product of growing up in very different times and places. That's one of the problems, anyway. The other problem is that food in 2013 is nothing but processed garbage. That much at least, all of them agree on.

Still. They have to eat something.

At the grocery store, Haytham and Connor split off to get the shopping done faster. When he's done with his part, Haytham waits near the check out for Connor, who shows up a few minutes later looking harried. After dumping his load in the cart, Connor shakes his head and asks, "Do you ever think about what our lives would have been like if this was actually our time?"

"No," Haytham lies. He's thought about it a lot, honestly. He wonders how much of their lives is inevitable and how much is a product of where and when they were. It's hard to imagine meeting Connor away from the backdrop of war. Maybe in another timeline, they would never have been enemies. He might have raised Connor himself.

"Yea," Connor mutters. "Me neither."

They look away from each other, heading into the checkout line, and Haytham coughs a little. Then, because he's not sure what else to do, he says, "We'd probably be doing this."

"What, buying food?" Connor shrugs. "Probably." He smiles slightly. "Maybe we'd even like it."

"I can't believe that," Haytham scoffs. "I've seen pigs fed better than this."

"That's an exaggeration," Connor says.

"Only slightly." They get to the front of the line and a bored teenager goes through their food, scanning every item and throwing them halfheartedly into bags. Behind them, a woman with a baby and a screaming toddler digs loudly through her purse for something. Haytham watches her long enough to see what she pulls out of the oversized bag, and relaxes when it's just a cell phone. Years of seeing weapons in every hiding place and killers in every shadow have not left him with much trust to spare.

"Hey, 'scuze me, sir," the clerk pipes up. "You sure you want this much bread?"

"Yes," Haytham says. The clerk starts at his tone and starts moving faster.

"I think you're scaring him," someone says from the next line over.

"Rebecca," Connor says, and Haytham looks up to see the assassin grinning at them. She seems a lot more comfortable seeing them in person than the last time they met- when she and Shaun came by the apartment, they'd both been nervous and tense. Rebecca at least seems to have gotten over it.

"I didn't expect to see you here," she says.

"Everyone needs to eat," Connor says.

The clerk finishes, and Haytham pays him. For once, they're actually acquired legally- Altair's getting a paycheck after all, and it's not like there's any reason not to use the money. It's probably better for Altair's cover if some of it gets spent, anyway.

"So what are the two of you up to?" Rebecca asks, walking out beside them. "Besides buying microwave dinners."

"Nothing," Connor grumbles. "Altair's busy with his new job and Ezio's locked up in his room with-" he stops himself and glances at the people around him. "With… research," he finishes.

"But we're at loose ends," Haytham adds. "Hence the groceries."

"Well, if you're up to it," Rebecca says. "I think I have a job for the two of you."

"I don't work with assassins," Haytham says.

"Yea," Rebecca says, looking pointedly between him and Connor. "I can tell. But hear me out, alright? We're looking for the observatory."

"Altair's mentioned that a few times," Haytham says.

"Abstergo wants to find it too," Rebecca goes on. "Edward knows where it is, and at some point they're going to find the location from his memories. They think that's going to be enough to get inside, but I'm not so sure. Every time the observatory has shown up throughout history, a sage comes into the picture."

"He's the one who knows how to find it," Haytham says.

"Yea," Rebecca agrees. "But I think there's more. He's _always _there, whenever people start looking for this place. And here we are, assassins and templars and everyone all looking for the place, and he's nowhere around. I think he's dangerous, and I think he's here somewhere."

"Alright," Connor says. "We'll find out what's going on."

"Really?" Haytham demands. "You're volunteering us? Just like that? Does nobody remember that I'm still a templar?"

Connor makes a noise halfway between a laugh and a scoff. "Come on, dad."

_Dad. _The word sounds unnatural coming from Connor. It's too modern for him, but they've all been picking up language like that, and there's another reason it sounds strange. Connor's never called him _dad _before.

Rebecca smiles, and Haytham knows she's noticed. Connor doesn't seem to realize what he's just said, and goes on. "If you didn't want to work with assassins you wouldn't still be here. There are templars in the city. If you wanted to you could have gone over to them at any time."

Haytham looks between his son and Rebecca, then sighs. "Alright," he says. "We'll find him."

**-/-**

**Hey, remember last chapter when I said I've been taking cold meds? I blame them for the Connor/Haytham shopping trip.**


	82. Chapter 82

Altair's warned him this would probably start happening, but it's still a shock for Edward the first time he wakes up in someone else's head. More than a shock, actually. He panics, gets to his feet- not _his_ feet, someone _else's_ feet, someone else's _everything_- and right away falls over. It's almost like being drunk- all the physical signs are there- but sober at the same time, because he's completely aware of everything that's going on.

There's a bed nearby and Edward sits down on it, legs shaking. Alright. So he's in someone's body, like Altair is sometimes in his. The place he's in- Edward glances around the room- looks nothing like any place he's ever been before. Then again, Altair did warn him that he'd probably find himself in the future at some point. Of course the future would like strange.

He goes through the list of names he's been given- Altair, Ezio, Haytham, Connor, and Desmond, the dead one. So whose body is he in, and where's the original owner? Every time Altair's been in his body, Edward's had complete control. So if he's in one of theirs, he shouldn't be able to do anything. But he can't even feel anyone else in this head (some_… thing_, maybe, in the back of the head, but he can't figure out what it is). It's like he's alone.

He can figure that out later. For now, he wants to know whose head he's in. He assumes it's not Desmond's, since the man's dead. And he's seen Haytham, so he can rule him out too. So- Altair, Ezio, or Connor.

Someone knocks on the door, and a voice Edward doesn't know says, "Ezio?"

Alright then. There's that question answered. The knocker doesn't wait for an answer, just opens the door and comes through. Edwards looks up to see a man, a few years older than he is but a lot younger than the guy whose body he's accidentally stolen. For a second the world shifts into something like eagle vision, but subtly different from the kind he's used to. He has to shake his head to clear it- being in someone else's head apparently means stealing their eagle vision too, and Ezio's activates more easily than his does.

"You've been in here a while," he says. "How's the apple?"

Edward doesn't answer- he doesn't want to open his mouth and hear someone else's voice come out.

"Look," the man says, dropping his voice a little. "I know you want to find out what's going on, but it's not good for you, alright? You shut yourself in here all day and you don't talk to any of us. I think my dad's even worried." He hesitates, then corrects himself. "Not, you know, really worried. But slightly concerned." Edward still says nothing, so the man sighs and goes on. "Just let it go, alright? I've never seen you this quiet before, and-" he stops abruptly, and his stance suddenly changes. It's almost impressive how quickly he changes from relaxed and slightly concerned to threatening. A hidden blade slides out from his wrist and before Edward can react at all, the man's holding it against his throat. "You're not Ezio."

"No," Edward agrees, and winces. Hearing someone else's voice when he speaks is incredibly jarring.

The man studies him for a long minute, then asks- "Edward?"

"Yea."

"Oh." The man nods- Edward can see the golden flash of eagle vision in his eyes- and steps back. Edward sits up, glaring at him, and resists the urge to rub his neck at the place where the blade was.

"Is that what you normally do when you meet new people?" he demands.

"When they're stealing my friends I do," the man says. "Do you know what you're doing here?"

"I had a really weird talk with a man in my head the other day," Edward says. "He said his name was Altair."

"Good." He relaxes a little. "That must have been today then."

"It was a couple weeks ago," Edward tells him.

"Time doesn't move the same on different sides of the animus," the man says. Then he holds a hand out, a little stiffly. "I'm Connor."

"Hi." Edward grins at him. "I heard you're my grandson."

"Right."

"I think you're older than I am," Edward says cheerfully. Now that it's actually happening, he's more curious about what's going to happen next than anything else. "So this body sharing thing- it doesn't last, right?"

"Not long," says Connor. "But… Ezio should be the one in control. If he's not, that means there's something wrong. Usually that means coma, or something."

"I can't feel anyone else in here at all," Edward says. "Is that bad?"

"It's… not good," Connor admits.

"Connor, are you in there?" Another person comes through the door, and this time it's someone Edward does know.

"Edward," Connor says. "This is-"

"Haytham," Edward finishes for him. "We've met. Kind of."

"Well…" Connor beats a hasty retreat. "I'm going to go out and wait for Altair. I'm sure you two have things to say."

They watch him go, and Edward says, "He doesn't like family reunions?"

"They don't tend to go well in this family." Haytham leans against the doorframe, and Edward can't stop himself from noticing that he's fidgeting slightly.

"The two of you don't get along?"

Haytham frowns at him- or not so much at him as in his general direction. He's looking everywhere but directly at Edward, and he wonders what happened (is going to happen?) between the two of them. "You seem a lot more interested in the two of us than you are in being stuck in someone else's body."

"I'm trying not to think about being in someone else's body," Edward says, and of course as soon as he says it, the feelings of Ezio comes crawling all over him, and he shudders. "So come on. Tell me about you and Connor."

Haytham sighs. He's still not looking right at Edward, which sort of bothers him. Was he really that bad of a father that his son can't even look at him now? He decides that he probably was- it's not like there's much in his life that could suggest a stable family life.

He feels his own eyes drop from Haytham's face as the older man starts talking. "Connor and I never got along. He's an assassin, I'm a templar." He stops, like he's waiting for a reaction, but Edward doesn't have one.

"So?" he asks.

"It doesn't bother you?" Haytham asks.

"Assassins, templars…" Edward shrugs. "Technically I think I'm a templar. I don't know, it probably doesn't count. It was pretty much the first time I'd ever heard of either of them, and I was impersonating this other guy at the time…"

Haytham's face twists into something that could almost be a smile. It looks like he doesn't practice the expression much. "Someday I want to hear this story," he says. "But you asked about me and Connor. We fought for a while. Then we worked together. Then we fought again, and tried to kill each other."

"Tried?" Edward eyes Haytham, picking out half a dozen weapons concealed on his body. He remembers seeing as many on Connor when he came in earlier. And this is in a place they both think is safe.

"It's complicated," Haytham says. "Desmond decided to intervene and we ended up body swapped for a few-" he frowns at Edward. "What?"

Edward keeps laughing. "It's funny."

Haytham sighs again. "I'm going to wait outside with Connor," he says, and leaves Edward alone in the room.


	83. Chapter 83

Altair knows something's wrong as soon as he gets within sight of their building. It's not the first time he's come home to find either Connor or Haytham pacing the sidewalk outside, usually because one of them has managed to annoy the other to the point where they can't stand to be in the same room any longer. This is the first time he's seen both of them waiting outside.

"Altair," Haytham says when he's in earshot. "Did you forget to mention something?"

"What?"

"You talked to Edward," Connor says.

"You could have mentioned it," Haytham adds.

"It just happened today," he says. "Why-" he interrupts himself and shakes his head. It's obvious, really. "Whose head is he in?"

"Ezio's," Haytham says. "Which is a problem, because he says Ezio's not in there."

"Of course he is," Altair says. "Where else would he be?"

"Exactly," says Connor.

"He's in control of the body," Haytham says. "He's talking, walking around, falling over his feet." He shrugs, and looks intently at Altair. "It's exactly what we've all done when we're getting used to a new body. Altair, trust me. Edward's in there, and Ezio isn't."

"Perfect," Altair grumbles. "I'm going up to talk to Edward."

He leaves the two Kenways and heads inside, where he finds Ezio- or at least his body- sitting quietly on his bed, staring at his fingers. For a minute, Altair hesitates in the doorway, considering the sight in front of him.

By now, he's spent enough time in Edward's head to know that the man doesn't like to sit still. He's always moving, usually as fast as he can. But now he sits, frozen, almost as if he's been turned to stone, and Altair feels an unexpected pang of sympathy. It's his fault that Edward's been dragged into this mess. This is different than all the rest of them- he and Desmond stumbled into it when Abstergo stuck him in the animus. Ezio came in because they needed him. Haytham bled into Desmond before they even knew his name, and Connor invited Altair in. But they went looking for Edward, knowing full well how badly they'd be disrupting his life.

But that decision's been made, and it's too late to change it now. So Altair clears his throat and watches as Edward startles and looks up at him. His expression is blank, without recognition, and Altair realizes they've never actually met each other in person.

"Altair," he says by way of introduction, and Edward gives a halfhearted smile.

"So that's what you look like," he says. It's Ezio's voice, but Edward's accent, and the sound grates uncomfortably on Altair's ears.

"And apparently you've met Connor and Haytham." He jerks his head back the way he came from.

"And Ezio," Edward adds, gesturing to himself. "Sort of." His face abruptly turns worried. "Altair, there's no one but me in here, but I can feel… something."

"It's the apple," Altair says, switching to his own language.

"Oh yea…" Edward furrows his brow and answers in the same tongue, apparently without realizing it. "You… mentioned…" Altair can't hide a grin as Edward notices the silver glowing lines forming on his skin. "You mentioned that."

"Yes." Altair switches back to English. "Are you doing alright?" He would rather not be having this conversation, but no one else is going to ask Edward about his feelings, and Altair really wants to be sure he's not going to snap and go crazy.

"I would rather be back on the _Jackdaw _right now," Edward admits. "I don't know how to deal with this."

"You should be soon," Altair assures him. "These things don't usually last long."

"Haytham told me that he and Connor were in each other's bodies for months," Edward says.

Altair had intentionally left that part out. Take it slow. "That was an unusual situation. Desmond was trying to use an apple he could barely control. It won't happen again."

"Why?" Edward asks. "Because you guys are so much better with the apples now?" he taps his head. "I can feel this thing, remember? It's not exactly staying quiet in here."

"It's-" Altair's never thought of his own apple as particularly loud. He can't really feel it unless he's focusing. Most of the time it just sits there- out of sight, out of mind. He studies Edward. "What's it doing?"

"Trying to rip my head in two," Edward grumbles. "Why? Is that not normal?"

"Not at all," says Altair. Ezio vanishes from his own head just as his apple starts having a fit- there's no way it's a coincidence. He's sure this means something. Something bad. He's just not sure what.


	84. Chapter 84

Darkness.

It calls the thing around it darkness, but the word doesn't really fit. It means more. It means fear, and emptiness, and an ever present pain, a fire that threatens to tear it apart, to burn it up until it's nothing but molecules floating in nothingness.

It screams. It always screams, because somehow it knows that there's someone out there to hear. Wherever 'out there' is. It's not sure where here is, so it's not sure where out there is. But it has to believe that there's a better place out there somewhere, because if this is all there is…

There's almost no reason to believe in that better place. It can't remember anything before the darkness, and all too often, the pain and emptiness steals even those memories away. It tries to string thoughts together, but finds that it's impossible to concentrate from one moment to the next.

_Almost _impossible. _Almost _no reason to believe.

Occasionally, it sees light. Dim lights, far out in the distance. Bright lights, right in front of it, so close it can barely stand the sight. It doesn't know what the lights are, or what they represent. But it believes in the light.

Because in the same way 'darkness' means more than what the word implies, 'light' means… safety. Home. It means that there's an escape from the darkness. And it _is_ going to find that escape.

So it screams at the light, begs for a savior, even when it becomes obvious that no one is listening. Sometimes, he feels hopeless, and draws deeper into itself, deeper into the darkness, away from the light. Sometimes, he feels angry, and lashes out in any way he can. Nothing helps. The darkness is still there. The darkness will always be there.

Until one day, the light comes to it. And the light has a name- _Ezio_. _Ezio Auditore da Firenze. _Ezio hears it screaming, and for a moment, as he reaches out, it thinks this is the end. That the darkness will be gone soon, that it will be free. The thought scares it, but at the same time, it wants this more than it has ever wanted anything.

When Ezio pulls away again, it almost breaks with the pain of the separation. The loneliness is worse this time, the darkness is deeper, the pain more intense. It can't bear the thought of another eternity spent alone.

But the pain doesn't last for long. After that, it can feel Ezio almost all the time, reaching for it, trying to speak to it, and it reaches back. But the darkness is learning, and fighting to keep them away, and it takes Ezio a while to come back. It doesn't know how long- the darkness is more relentless than ever, and it finds itself being part more quickly and painfully than before. When Ezio finally comes to back, there's not much of it left. A few scattered shreds still somehow clinging to hope. But somehow, that's enough.

The first thing it notices is that the darkness is gone. The second thing it notices- as it blinks, and opens eyes that have been shut for far too long- is that it has eyes to open. It half gets up, hauling itself into a sitting position on arms that shake with the effort.

It has a body. That's new. It wonders if it's ever had a body before. There's so much it doesn't remember… But the darkness is gone, and it (looking down at the body, it decides that maybe the right word is _he_) decides that's good enough.

It- no, he- looks around, trying to figure out where he is. There's nothing around but empty fields. It doesn't look familiar, but whatever's left of his mind is so torn up and fragmented, he doesn't think he'd recognize it if he'd been there a thousand times before.

He senses rather than hears when someone steps up behind him. He doesn't feel strong enough to stand, so he cranes his head back, looking into the face of an older man with graying hair and sad eyes. The face means nothing to him, but it's not hard to guess who this has to be. Ezio's the one who came for him- so this is Ezio

They watch each other in silence for what could have been moments or hours or eons. Ezio's face goes through a storm of emotions, too quick and too complex for him to recognize. He keeps staring though, mouth half open, eyes wide, drinking in the sight. He can't remember if he's ever seen another person. Until just now, he didn't even know he _was_ a person. He doesn't know how long Ezio will stay, and when the darkness comes back, he wants to remember this.

Ezio's face finally settles on an expression of disbelief. "Desmond?" The word seems to slip out without conscious thought.

It means nothing to him, but it clearly means a lot to Ezio. So he makes the effort. "Sorry," he says, and he can't stop himself from smiling as he says it, because this is the first time he's ever heard his own voice. "Who?"

**-/-**

**Oh man, _this chapter_. I have been writing and unwriting and rewriting this chapter since before Desmond died, because at first I didn't know if I wanted him back at all, then I wasn't sure _how _I wanted him back, and then I wasn't sure how to actually write it. The end result wasn't exactly what I wanted, but I think it's close enough.**

**Also yea, if I'm honest, I was never going to not bring Desmond back. He's my favorite and basically every fic I write turns into a fix it fic at some point. :)**


	85. Chapter 85

"...to rip my head in two," Ezio hears himself say, as his mind settles back into his own body. "Why? Is that not normal?" It's his voice, he can feel his mouth moving, but he's not the one pulling the strings, and it's not anyone he knows, either. He's sitting on his bed, and an unusually tired looking Altair stands in the doorway.

"Not at all," Altair says, and his voice is pensive.

It's been a while since Ezio rode shotgun in anyone's body, but he hasn't exactly forgotten the rules of the game. Unfortunately, he doesn't have time for that right now. Whoever's inside his head doesn't know his way around yet, and Ezio has decades of experience and the apple (and _oh God, _the apple) to help him. He wrests control back without even bothering to check who it was in there, throwing them into the back of his head where he can figure them out later. "Altair-"

"Ezio," Altair says. "Edward said you weren't in there."

"I wasn't," Ezio says. "I went inside the apple."

Altair raises an eyebrow, and Ezio feels an abrupt surge of frustration- half his, because Altair doesn't understand the gravity of what's going on, and half Edward's, because he just doesn't know what's going on (and what is Edward doing in his head, anyway?). "You went inside an apple that's inside you?" he asks.

"Yes," Ezio says. "Look, I told you. I heard the apple screaming, and when I couldn't get it to talk to me, I thought- well, I'll go to it."

"That shouldn't be possible," Altair says.

"I didn't think it would be either," Ezio says. "But then I remembered something Juno said, back in the temple, when she was going on and on about all those crazy things the first civilization tried to save themselves. They had the technology to preserve their minds for as long as they needed to. I mean, that's how Juno was still around when we got there."

"And you tried it on the apple?" Altair asks.

"Yes," says Ezio. "And it worked. I went inside the apple."

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Altair doesn't sound skeptical anymore. He sounds worried.

"It's Desmond," Ezio says, and he watches Altair's face suddenly freeze into a cold mask. Ezio's spent enough time inside his head to recognize that he doesn't want anyone to know what he's thinking right now. "When he died- when we thought he died- it must have only been his body that was killed. He's inside the apple."

"That's why it's been so unmanageable," Altair guesses.

"I think so," Ezio agrees. "He's been in the apple for months, and that whole time he's been trying to escape. I can't control it because it's not just the apple anymore. It's Desmond. They're the same thing."

"Alright," Altair takes a deep breath. "Can you… do you think you can get him out?"

"I don't know," Ezio admits. He'd tried to- he'd pulled Desmond as far as that imaginary field. But the memory of Desmond sitting there, weak and shaking and naked as a newborn, won't leave him. His face when he looked up at Ezio, so full of… wonder, like he's never seen another human before- just remembering it hits him like a punch to the stomach. "I really don't know. He's- broken."

"Broken?" Altair repeats, and for the first time he does sound worried.

"He's not dead," Ezio says. "But I don't think he remembers anything. Whatever he's been living through inside the apple, it's nothing good."

Altair nods. Just once. "It doesn't matter," he says. "We'll bring him back."

When Altair's left the room- probably to fill Connor and Haytham in, Edward asks, _"Does this sort of thing happen a lot?"_

_"Yes. No." _Ezio sighs. _"Kind of. It's always weird, but this is new."_

_"I'm starting to pick up on that."_

Ezio doesn't want to think about Desmond anymore, so he turns to Edward as a distraction. _"Are you alright with this?" _he asks. _"It's your first time in someone else's head, right?"_

_"I'd rather be in mine," _Edward says. _"But…"_

_"But?"_

_"I don't know yet," _Edward admits. _"I'm still working it out."_ He doesn't say anything else, but Ezio doesn't push. They sit there together, sharing a head, lost in their own private thoughts, until Connor pokes his head around the door. "We need to steal a body," he says. "Want to help?"


	86. Chapter 86

Altair tries his best to look like this is just a normal day when he walks into Abstergo, but he hasn't quite figured out what it means to be normal in the twenty first century yet, and anyway this isn't a normal day. Not even for him.

He stops at Shaun's coffee stand on his way upstairs. It's not safe to talk openly, especially with what he has planned, but he feels like he needs to at least clue the other assassins in that they've got something planned.

Shaun jumps badly when he sees Altair. Apparently he hasn't gotten used to the time travel yet, but Altair doesn't have time to ease him into it. "Keep your head down today," he says, dropping his voice.

"What?"

"Just don't do anything that will raise eyebrows if security happens to start looking into alibis," Altair says.

"What about you?" Shaun asks, just a little too loudly. He lowers his voice, and adds, "If you're going to do something stupid-"

"I'm not going to do anything," Altair says. Abstergo keeps tabs on all their employees, and while he suspects that they don't usually bother to track every single person that works in the building, today is going to be different.

"Why does that not make me feel better?" Shaun demands. "What are you planning?"

Altair wouldn't have told him anyway- not in the middle of the atrium surrounded by cameras and strangers- but before he can say another word, a harried looking woman interrupts to demand a coffee. While Shaun's distracted, Altair walks off, mind already focused on the day ahead. His part of the plan is actually the smallest, because he's the one most under Abstergo's eye right now. It's frustrating, not because he doesn't trust the others, but because he'll be left completely out of the loop. Once everything is set into motion, he'll have no idea how the plan is going until it's all over.

He takes the elevator up and heads to his desk. Melanie Lemay smiles at him as he passes and calls a greeting, which he returns. It's actually going to help that she's here this morning. Technically, everyone working with a given person's memories is supposed to coordinate and work more or less at the same pace. The idea is that different people will notice different details, or bring different knowledge and backgrounds into a given memory, and that only by working together can they get the full picture.

Nobody follows this rule. Most of them pay at least some level of lip service to the idea, but it's too difficult to bother coordinating it on a daily basis, for a lot of reasons. Everyone works at drastically different paces, because sync rates can't be improved by force. There are some people that like to explore every possible facet of a memory, and others that do only what is absolutely necessary to advance.

With Melanie around, however, they don't have much choice. She's the one who decided they should all be working at the same pace, and she's the one with the power to fire everyone in the room. Altair has already learned that her rare visits are a signal to the rest of them that it's time to actually pay attention to her rules. This is very good, actually. The plan will go a lot more smoothly if everyone's focused on the same memory at the same time.

There's are several impromptu conferences in various corners of the room. Edward isn't the only one with multiple people going through his memories, but he is the one with the most people going through them. Altair spends a solid half hour perched on the edge of a desk, listening as half a dozen people argue dates and memories and technical limitations. Finally, they settle on a sequence of memories that everyone seems satisfied with, and break apart to actually do some work.

Before Altair hooks himself into the animus, he sends a text to Ezio.

_Half an hour_, the message reads. _Then go in_.


	87. Chapter 87

Edward's in a tavern in Kingston, sharing a drink with Ade and Kidd (a rare interlude from the chaos of their lives recently), when he sees Altair appear unexpectedly appear at his shoulder. Edward grins at him- Altair continues to look grim, but Edward doesn't let it bother him at all- and raises a glass in his general direction.

"What are you looking at?" Kidd demands, and Edward abruptly remembers that he's the only one that can see Altair. In fairness, up until now _he _hasn't been able to see Altair either. Not until he gave in and agreed to let him into his head. Since then, there's been time travel, and finding himself in someone else's head, and now Altair showing up like a ghost at the table next to him.

"Nothing," he says to Kidd, because he's not going to explain Altair right now.

"You have an audience," Altair tells him, and Edward can't stop himself from shifting a little uncomfortably. It's one thing to have Altair in his head, because he knows he's there and anyway he can see into _his _head too, so it at least seems fair. It's very definitely not okay with him to know there's a whole group of people following him around that he doesn't know anything about. Even the assurance that Altair's the only one that can actually get to his thoughts or inside his head doesn't help much.

At least he gets to mess with them a little. Edward isn't completely sure he understands what's going on with Desmond, or what that has to do with stealing a body, but he's perfectly happy with his part of the plan as long as it means he can make life a little more difficult for the brain invaders.

"Hey, Ade," Edward says suddenly, trying to make it sound like the question's just occurred to him. "Do you ever feel like somebody's watching you?"

"Sometimes," Ade says. "Why?"

"I always feel like there's someone watching me," Edward grumbles. "Right now I feel like there's…"

He glances at Altair, who provides, "Seventeen."

"Seventeen people watching me." Seventeen, seriously? Kind of a lot.

"Alright," Kidd says, reaching for his own drink. "You're feeling paranoid today, Kenway."

"It's not paranoid if they're really out there," Edward says.

"How much have you been drinking?" Kidd laughs. "Why would people care about watching you?"

"Okay," Edward says. "Hear me out." He pauses, and leans forward slightly, dropping his voice so that the other two have to lean forward as well. "What if somebody, someday in the future, figures out how to look at peoples' memories? Even people that have been dead for centuries?"

He half glances at Altair, who's turned away from him, listening to whatever's happening on the other side of the animus. Edward can't hear what's going on- obviously, it's happening three hundred years in the future- but Altair's satisfied expression tells him that it's working.

Kidd gives him a look. "Alright," he says. "Let's hear this fantasy of yours."

"Well," Edward says. "Obviously this is the best time in human history to be alive."

"Clearly," Ade says dryly. Behind them, a man with one eye smashes a bottle over the head of a friend that smells like he's been sleeping in a pile of garbage. "We're living in a golden age."

"It's not that bad," Edward says. "And I mean it has to be better than…" he hesitates, because there was a whole list of words he was supposed to memorize for this part, words that will catch the attention of anyone listening in from an animus, but all of them sound strange to him, and he feels more than a little stupid just throwing them out. "…than global warming, or reality TV, or microwave dinners-"

"What are you talking about?" Kidd interrupts. He stares at Edward like he's just grown a second head, but Edward doesn't let it bother him. The point here isn't to convince Kidd and Ade that he's sane. They're pirates. If they were sane, they'd find a less deadly line of work.

No. The point of all this is to get the attention of anyone at Abstergo that happens to be listening in- and hopefully, the attention of anyone that might otherwise be interested in someone stealing a body.

"And…" Altair glances over Edward's shoulder at something he can't see, something happening three centuries in the future and hundreds of miles away. "Nobody's going to be paying much attention to anything else today. You have officially turned this place into a madhouse."

Edward can picture the scene- dozens of people running around, trying to figure out where he learned any of those words, or how he managed to describe the animus. He smiles into his drink. Chaos is kind of his specialty.

**-/-**

**Step 1 of the steal a body plan- Edward is a distraction.**

**Steps 2+ coming soon, along with more explanations about why Abstergo is keeping bodies in their basement. Or wherever. Probably a basement. I haven't decided that part yet, but where else are you going to hide a body?**


	88. Chapter 88

It's not Haytham's first time breaking into Abstergo. It's a lot easier now than it was the time he had to plant fake papers for Altair before he was hired. Breaking into anywhere is easier the second time, but there's also a general atmosphere of chaos that wasn't there before. "Guards aren't even in place," he scoffs as he, Connor, and Ezio avoid the cameras and make it inside.

"You sound disappointed," Ezio says.

"I don't like it when things go too smoothly," Haytham says. "It just means something's going to go wrong later."

"I wouldn't worry about that," Ezio says. "Have you heard our plan? It will be a miracle if nothing horrible happens."

"Let's just get this over with," Connor says, and the three of them hurry downwards.

Abstergo has a lot of basements. Layers and layers of basements, and at the bottom- cryo chambers, all filled with bodies. It takes a while to circumvent the increasingly harsh layers of security to get there, but it's not enough to keep two master assassins and a templar grandmaster out. When they finally reach the very lowest layer, though, Haytham almost wishes they hadn't made it. It's dark, small, cramped, and filled with see through tubes, each one holding a human body.

"Why would anyone do that?" Connor breathes, staring at the nearest tube.

"It preserves the body," Ezio says. "Abstergo collects people with interesting ancestors. Just in case. Where do you think they get what they need for their 'sample 17' project?"

"Remember those files Altair found when he did his hacking?" Haytham adds. "The information was all in there." He looks over at Ezio. "Is this going to work?"

"It has to," Ezio says.

"So you have no idea," Haytham says flatly.

"Look," Ezio growls. "You didn't see what I saw in the apple. He's suffering in there, and I'm not leaving him there any longer than I have to. His body is here, his mind-"

"What's left of it," Haytham interrupts.

"Is in the apple," Ezio says loudly, ignoring said interruption. "All we need to do is reunite them, and we get Desmond back."

"We have to try," Connor says, and Haytham sighs. Honestly, he's still not convinced that this will work. It's a little late for second thoughts now, though.

"Alright," he says. "Ezio- do your part."

They find the tube with Desmond's body near the back of the room, and Ezio sits down next to it, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. He looks for all the world like an old man stopping for a rest, but Haytham knows he's trying to focus on getting the apple to do something very difficult.

Haytham and Connor stand guard. For a few minutes, they do so in silence, then Connor asks, "Do you ever think you might want an apple?"

Haytham laughs. "No. They're nothing but trouble."

Connor nods, and glances behind him at Ezio. "I agree," he says.

They don't speak again, and Ezio stays completely silent as well. After a while, Haytham turns around to ask if the Italian's made any progress, but stops abruptly before he can get a word out. For a while, he's been aware of the apple's light growing behind him, but that's become so commonplace, he barely notices.

But this… what he sees behind him is nothing he's ever seen before. Ezio still sits on the floor, and Desmond is still in his tube. But between them, connected to both by tendrils of brilliant golden light, is the apple. Sort of. Instead of being housed inside a metal case, the apple is made of nothing but light- the same kind as the golden light.

Connor sees him shift, and turns around. "What-"

As though his word is a trigger, the apple abruptly explodes in a soundless eruption of light. Haytham staggers back a few steps, shielding his eyes from the sudden assault. The light lasts no longer than a second or two, but even after that's gone, Haytham's blinking and trying to clear his vision for another full minute.

There's a crater in the floor, and both Ezio and Desmond- free of the destroyed remnants of the cryo tube- are lying inside it. Neither of them is moving, but Haytham can see slight movements that tells him they're both breathing.

"They're alive," Connor says, like he can't believe it.

"But maybe not for much longer." Haytham can hear footsteps coming down the stairs behind them. A lot of footsteps. "Someone must have seen that." He growls to himself, and readies his weapons. Security cameras are not his favorite twenty first century invention.

"That's what we're here for," Connor says, and takes his place next to Haytham, waiting for the first of the footsteps to arrive.

**-/-**

**Plan part 2- Ezio gives the apple back to Desmond**


	89. Chapter 89

The distraction works exactly like it's supposed to. Within half an hour, it seems like most of the building is crammed into the sample 17 area, arguing the importance of an eighteenth century pirate rattling off a list of twenty first century terminology. It's not a particularly elegant distraction, but it works. And as long as Edward doesn't do it again, they'll probably let it drop eventually. Besides, the chances of anyone actually figuring out the truth are low.

"Hey, new guy, I need another favor."

It's John from IT, calling over his communicator at the worst possible time. "Not now," Altair says.

"What, you don't have time for me?"

"No."

"So I guess you have time to be fired after your boss finds out you've been hacking computers? Because I still have those records, if you want me to start spreading them around."

Blackmail. Altair curses himself for being fool enough to be put in this situation. "Fine," he says. "What's your favor?" For now, he decides it will be easier to go along with John as quietly as he can rather than cause a scene. Later, though, he's going to have to track John down and have a… conversation.

"I need you to do some more hacking," John says. "Some of the higher ups here are going to a conference in Chicago, and I want to know their exact plans."

"Travel plans," Altair repeats, in a voice utterly devoid of emotion. "You're blackmailing me to find out someone's travel plans."

"Just get up there," John says. "I'll even get you the clearance you need to get past security. Level two access."

"Fine." For now, John has all the power. The man is really not going to enjoy the upcoming conversation, though.

This time, the hack goes a lot more smoothly than the first one. Altair is more familiar with John's program the second time around, and it turns out that Edward's distraction is helpful in this, too. No one is even around to question or stop him, although John's voice is an ever present, grating, distraction in his ear.

He slips back downstairs as quickly as he can, but it's been nearly fifteen minutes, and there's always the chance that someone could have noticed he was gone. He's taken care not to make friends at Abstergo, so it's not likely anyone would have sought him out, but going upstairs to run John's errand was still a risk.

"Don't forget to take the files down to the courier," John prompts, just as Altair is about to step off the elevator.

"You could have mentioned that before," Altair says through gritted teeth.

"More fun this way," John says. "Now turn around and get back on that elevator."

Altair says nothing, because he knows full well that none of the things going through his mind are going to help the situation. So he just does as John tells him and carries the files down to the atrium, where Rebecca is again waiting by Shaun's coffee stand.

"Hey!" she says as soon as she sees him. "What's going on upstairs? The whole building's going nuts."

"Nothing," Altair says. John's gone quiet for now, but this morning's activities have reminded Altair that he could be listening at any time. "Some sort of technology issue, I think."

"Really?" Shaun butts in. "Because from what I heard-"

"Whatever you heard is probably gossip," Altair says, a little more harshly than he'd intended. The whole morning has him close to losing his temper. "There's nothing unusual going on-"

And at that exact moment, a sudden pulse of light radiates up through the floor, leaking up between tiles and spilling through the tiny cracks were the floor meets the wall. "Whoa," Rebecca says. "That was weird."

Altair nods, and turns to watch a group of guards come tearing across the room and down the nearest flight of stairs. "That was a bad sign," he corrects. He recognizes the light- it's the apple. It could be that things are going according to plan- after all, reuniting a man's mind with his body (a technically dead body) isn't going to happen easily.

He wasn't expecting it to draw this much attention, though.

Going back upstairs, leaving this potential crises behind, is the hardest thing he's ever done. But right now, he needs to stick to the plan. He's already been gone too long, running errands for John. Right now, he just needs to trust that the others can handle the unexpected emergency.


	90. Chapter 90

When he wakes, there's chaos all around him. The noises of a dozen men fighting reaches him, but distantly, like they have to travel a long way to get to him. His ears feel like they're filled with mud, and when he opens his eyes, his vision swims. He tries to throw up, but there's nothing in his stomach.

Everything- _everything _hurts, but it's so much better than the darkness he left behind. This is only a physical pain, and after only a few seconds, it's already started to fade. He looks around, trying to figure out where he is and how he got there and what's going on.

There are fifteen- no, closer to twenty- people in the room with him, and the only one he recognizes is Ezio, lying on the ground next to him. For a second he panics, because the other man is lying in an unnatural position, barely moving. Then Ezio abruptly coughs and sits up.

He turns his attention to the others in the room, and frowns. There's a large group of men fighting against two opponents less than a dozen yards away. The two are winning, somehow, but he can tell it wouldn't take much for the tide to shift. One lucky hit, and then the two will go down and maybe their attackers will turn on him and Ezio.

Almost like he can hear the thought, one of the men abruptly turns toward them, grins, and raises a weapon. Time seems to slow, and suddenly he realizes he's raising a hand in response to the weapon, not in defense, but to fight back. He doesn't have weapons, but he does have something better. Instinctively, he sends a bolt of golden energy flying out of him, hitting the man with the weapon and spreading from him to the others like a chain.

"Desmond!" Ezio yells (why does he keep thinking that word will mean something to him?), but he's not going to stop now. He's confused, and scared, and this is all he can do to fight back. Nothing he sees makes any sense to him, and he just wants it to go away, so he can hear himself think.

So he lets the light go. He closes his eyes, and pictures himself pushing the light away, pictures it carrying the crowd along with it as it goes. When he opens his eyes again, breathing heavily, there's no one in the room except himself and Ezio, and he lets himself feel a little bit of pride for figuring it out himself.

Then he looks over at Ezio, and the expression on his face makes the pride goes away. "I shouldn't have done that," he guesses.

"No," Ezio says. "You- how did you do that?"

"I don't know." He shrugs. "I just thought about it. It wasn't hard."

He can tell this isn't the right answer, but Ezio doesn't push it any farther. Instead, he asks, "Are they dead?"

"Dead?"

"Where did they go?" Ezio rephrases the question.

"I just…" he crosses his arms over his chest and doesn't meet Ezio's eyes. "I didn't want them here anymore. So they're somewhere else."

"Alright," Ezio says. "Fine, Desmond, we'll figure it out later. But we need to get out of here before they send anyone else."

He starts to follow as Ezio moves to leave the room, then suddenly stops. "Wait," he says. "You keep saying that."

"Saying what?"

"Desmond," he says. "What's it mean?"

Ezio's expression changes again, and this time he thinks he can read something like pity, or maybe sadness, on his face. "You don't remember anything, do you?"

Only the darkness. "No," he says. "Nothing."

Ezio shakes his head. "It's your name."

"Oh."

"Now come on," Ezio says, and turns his back on hi- on _Desmond._ "We need to leave."


	91. Chapter 91

Connor wakes up alone, which is strange because he doesn't remember falling asleep, or being hit in the head, and also because the last thing he _does _remember is fighting a dozen guards in an Abstergo basement surrounded by frozen bodies.

Now he's in a forest, alone, wearing clothes that are completely unfamiliar.

What?

It's such an unexpected outcome that when Connor climbs to his feet, he spends several minutes standing completely still, evaluating his options and trying to figure out what's going on and how he got there.

He knows where he is- a few miles from Concord, in a section of forest that's identical to the ones in his memories. This isn't the twenty first century anymore. He's back in his own time, which would be a lot more reassuring if he had any idea of how or why.

With no real idea where else to go, Connor heads toward Concord. It's nearby, and he's in desperate need of reorienting himself right now. He knows what general era he's in, but he doesn't know the exact date, and he's done enough time traveling by now to understand that the exact date can make a difference.

He's lost in thought during the walk into town, and so he doesn't hear the screams or smell the fire until it's too late. He tenses, and a second later takes off running. That is a _lot _of screaming. Before he makes it very far at all, though, someone comes crashing into him, knocking him off his feet and onto the ground.

Connor's instincts kick in and he lashes out with hidden blades that he realizes too late are not strapped to his arms. "Really, Connor?" A familiar voice demands. "We're doing this again? I thought we were done trying to kill each other."

"Wha- dad?" He stops struggling, and Haytham lets him up. "You're the one that jumped me."

"Because you were going to run right in without looking first," Haytham says.

"The place is on fire-"

"There's more going on than you know about," Haytham says. "I don't understand it, but something's seriously wrong."

"And there are people seriously dying," Connor says. "Can we argue this later?"

"Fine," Haytham growls. "We go in, you play the hero, and then we get out, alright?"

Connor nods once and starts to run again, this time with Haytham hot on his heels. Most of his mind is occupied with wondering what's going on and how he can help. Most, but not all- part of him is still trying to figure out how he got there, another part is wondering if Ezio and Desmond got out of Abstergo alright, and a small but growing corner of his mind is pointing out that this is the most concerned he's ever heard his father sound, and Haytham does not scare easily.

Down in the town, Connor and Haytham find a group of people trapped in a church on fire, surrounded by soldiers in blue uniforms (and who are they fighting for, anyway?). They're finishing off the last of the soldiers off when someone yells "The King is coming!"

"King?" Haytham repeats, glancing over at Connor, who shrugs. He's never seen a king. He doesn't care much for the idea, though.

"When did we get a king?" Connor asks.

"I don't-" Haytham stops, staring at something over Connor's shoulder. He tries to say something, then swallows and tries again. "I think you should see this."

Connor turns, and is met with the last sight he would have expected- George Washington on a horse, regally dressed, wearing a crown and carrying…

"That's an apple," Connor says.

"Yes it is," Haytham agrees.

Connor sighs, frustrated. "Why can't things ever just be simple?"

**-/-**

**And have some Tyranny of King Washington. I was super conflicted about whether or not to put it in (I wasn't sure where it would fit chronologically, plus I'm not as familiar with the overall plot as I am with the plot of the main games). In the end I decided this story is already nuts enough that this isn't going to hurt, and anyway it always bothered me that Haytham didn't make it into TOKW. Time to fix that. :)**


	92. Chapter 92

It's a little earlier than usual when Altair makes it home. Between Edward's comments in the animus (which, for the moment at least, most people seem ready to discuss as some kind of glitch) and the… light explosion from the basement (the official line on that is electrical malfunction, but no one's buying it), almost everyone is sent home early. "Just until everything gets sorted out," Melanie explains as she sends her team home for the day. "It should all be fine by Monday."

So Altair gets home at 3:30 in the afternoon to find Ezio sitting at the kitchen table, looking tired and worried. He glances up when Altair comes in, and greets him in Italian, rather than English.

"You lost the apple, then?" Altair asks, sitting down across from him.

"Desmond has it," Ezio says.

"Oh." Since everything that happened today was part of a plan to reunite Desmond's body with his mind in the apple, this doesn't explain Ezio's almost defeated stance. "What went wrong?"

Ezio shakes his head. "A whole group of guards found us," he explains. "So Connor and Haytham took them on while Desmond and I were out from the apple."

Something in Ezio's tone tells Altair that this is the part of the plan that didn't work out. "They're dead?" he asks. It's not likely that two men of their skill level would be taken down by the half trained underlings employed by Abstergo Entertainment, but on the other hand… they only have to get lucky once to get rid of the Kenways forever.

Ezio's answer surprises him. "I don't know," he says. "But they're gone."

"Gone," Altair repeats. "What does that mean?"

"Desmond…" Ezio hesitates. "He did something with the apple, sent all of them… somewhere. It was like nothing I've ever seen before. I mean- you've had your apple for a while now, you know how difficult it is to get it to do anything. And we all remember what happened when he tried to use the apple to stop Connor and Haytham from killing one another."

"Hard to forget," Altair says.

"But today it was different," Ezio says. "When I gave the apple back to him, it knocked us both out, but he got up first. I think he was scared- it was like the last time I saw him. I really don't think he remembers anything. He didn't know what was going on, and he just reached out, and…" Ezio shrugs. "They were gone."

Altair stands, his chair sliding back behind him. It's the only noise in the otherwise silent room. "I need to talk to him," he says.

"He was asleep when I left him," Ezio says, nodding at one of the bedrooms. "But that was a while ago, he might be up by now."

When Altair opens the door, he finds that Desmond is, in fact, awake. There's a full length mirror hanging on the back of the closet door, ancient and warped, but still usable. It was there when they moved in, but until now, it hasn't seen much use. Desmond's sitting cross legged on the floor in front of it, chin in his hands, staring intently at his reflection. He doesn't look up when Altair comes in, doesn't move at all for several minutes.

At last, Altair gets tired of waiting. "How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Strange," Desmond says, and lapses back into silence.

"Do you mind if we talk?" Altair asks.

"Uh-" Desmond shrugs and turns so he's looking at Altair instead of his own reflection. "Sure." He hesitates, eyes darting away from Altair's face and then back again. "What's wrong?"

There are so many answers to that, Altair doesn't even know where to start. Instead, he asks, "How much do you remember? From before?"

He can't come right out and say 'from before you died', and Desmond misunderstands. "From before today? Nothing. Just the dark." There's something about his face and his tone when he says _dark _that Altair doesn't quite like, but before he can ask, Desmond continues. "I'm sorry," he says. "I know I'm supposed to, but I don't. I don't know what's going on, I don't know who's on my side and who wants me dead. I don't even know who _I _am. I wouldn't know my own name if Ezio hadn't told me, I don't-"

"Hey," Altair interrupts, and Desmond stops, eyes on the floor. "Let's start from the beginning, alright? My name's Altair."

"Altair," Desmond repeats. He says the name slowly, almost like he's trying it out, maybe trying to remember if he's heard it before.

"Yes."

"Did we know each other?" Desmond asks.

"Very well," Altair says softly.

"Oh. Then can you-" he takes a deep breath. "Can you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" He's already pretty sure he can guess the answer, but he wants to hear it, just to be sure. The old Desmond, he knew him almost as well as he knows himself, thanks to all the time they spent in one another's minds. But this new Desmond is a mystery.

"Everything," Desmond says. "Everything I don't remember."

"It's a long story," Altair warns. "And not a very nice one."

"I don't care," Desmond says, and for the first time, there's something like determination in his face. He takes his eyes off the floor, and looks Altair straight in the eyes. "I need to know."

**-/-**

**So this chapter ended up being a little more rushed than I wanted, but whatever.**

**Also, PSA in case anyone actually cares about when I update- my spring break starts tomorrow and I'm pretty bad about writing when I'm not at school. So just don't be super surprised if updates are infrequent or nonexistent for the next week or so.**


	93. Chapter 93

They eventually decide that this must be some kind of alternate timeline. Haytham is reluctant to believe it at first- just because they've been unexpectedly forced into another century, there's no reason to believe anything out of the ordinary has happened. At some point, as he argues with Connor, Haytham makes the mistake of saying this last part out loud, and realizes how ridiculous his life has become.

And over the next few days, a number of details make it gradually more obvious that this world isn't the same as the one he remembers being forced out of ten months ago. The most obvious is George Washington- King Washington, as he's known here. His tyranny is nothing at all like the fledgling, struggling democracy Haytham knows should be here. And it's hard to imagine the country he saw in the twenty first century growing out of this nightmare.

There are other details, too. Ziio is dead- killed trying to stop the Mad King's rule. Connor never left his village, never became an assassin. And Haytham- honestly, he has no idea what sort of life he's lead in this world. He hasn't stumbled on anyone claiming to know him, and that makes him nervous. He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everyone else seems to be worse off here- he doesn't relish the idea of finding out his story.

Even with all this proof, even while his mind accepts this strange new world, he can't quite make himself _believe _in its existence. It's not until he meets back up with Connor in Boston that he's finally convinced. They've been separated for a few days while Connor travels with some of the people from his village in search of information. Only, 'finding information' somehow turns into 'killing Benedict Arnold', and the next Haytham hears of Connor is that he's being held in a Boston prison. Haytham goes after him, not sure if he wants to break him out or have it out with him for doing something so unbelievably rash without sufficient information.

He makes it into the prison, right up close to the cell where Connor is being held, without being noticed by anyone- including Connor. He's about to make himself known, he really is, when he sees something incredible.

He's looking straight at Connor when the man suddenly seems to… shimmer. There's a sound, almost like a snarling wolf, and Connor vanishes. Haytham can just barely see him when he switches to eagle vision, but there's something wrong with the blue shadow that marks his son's progress as he moves through the jail- sometimes it holds the shape of a man, other times, the shape of a wild animal.

Haytham corners him in a dark alcove, out of sight of the guards, and watches Connor reappear in front of him, a surprised expression on his face. "Dad," he says. "What are you doing here?"

"I came for you," Haytham says, then gestures at Connor. "Looks like you didn't need my help, though."

Connor shifts uncomfortably. "I was going to tell you everything, but things just started to spiral out of control, and-" he shrugs. "Here we are."

"What happened?" Haytham asks. "I saw what you just did."

"There's… a tea," Connor says. The hesitation in his voice is barely audible, and if Haytham hadn't spent so much time with him over the past few months, he doubts he would have noticed. "You drink it, and-"

"You turn into a wolf," Haytham finishes.

"You meet a spirit animal," Connor corrects. "And that animal guides you."

"What's the downside?" Haytham asks. "And don't tell me there isn't one. You wouldn't have gone running off on your own if it was safe." Even as he asks the question, his mind is still reeling. A _tea_? That ties the drinker to an animal spirit and gives him their powers?

This is the moment he truly starts to believe that they've somehow been sent to another universe.

"I don't know," Connor says. "I was told it wasn't safe, but…" he shrugs, uncomfortable. "They killed her."

"Ziio," Haytham says, in a voice so quiet he can barely hear it himself.

"Yea." Connor nods, and goes on. "Don't you see? I had to do this. They have to die. We need to get that apple away from Washington before he has a chance to do any more damage."

"I know," Haytham says. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, not if they killed Ziio." He looks Connor straight in the eye. "But you shouldn't expect anything less from me, either."

"You want to help," Connor says, and for a second Haytham thinks he's going to argue. Instead, he only smiles faintly. "Thank you."

"Do you have a plan?" Haytham asks. "Preferably one that involves us getting out of here alive."

"I do," Connor says and holds up a vial. Haytham doesn't ask where he's been hiding it. "You're not going to like it."

"That's the tea," Haytham guesses.

"Enough for two," Connor says.

"You're right," Haytham says, and holds out his hand for the vial. "I don't like it. But I don't like anything in this world. If we're going to get the apple from Washington, if we want a prayer of getting back to our own world, we need to start playing by the rules of this place."

Connor nods, and without another word hands his father the tea.

They drink together, and the world dissolves around them.

**-/-**

**Notice: I did change a few things from TOKW- namely, Ziio dies earlier, and the first part takes place over days instead of months. Also- obviously- Haytham drinks the tea with Connor. I haven't figured out how that's going to work out yet, but I'm pretty sure them dealing with it is going to end up as the meat of the TOKW plotline.**

**Yea, sorry, I'm rambling (It's late, I'm tired, shh). **


	94. Chapter 94

Desmond has taken to climbing up the side of buildings when no one else is around. Altair and Ezio both tell him to stay inside, because he's supposed to be dead, because if anyone sees him, there's a chance it could get back to Abstergo, and- apparently- that would be bad. He's had it all explained to him, but it doesn't really mean anything yet. And he suspects they have another reason for wanting him inside.

They don't trust him.

It takes him a while to notice, because he doesn't have any other relationships to compare these to. He eventually figures it out by watching the way the other two act around each other and seeing that it's different from the way they treat him. There's a hesitation that shouldn't be there, a reluctance to leave him alone.

And they never, ever talk about the other two. About Connor and Haytham, the two assassins (no, Desmond has to remind himself, an assassin and a templar- but aren't the templars supposed to be the bad guys?) he accidentally sent away when he first woke up. He feels sick every time he thinks about it, to be honest, because all of them risked a lot to save him, and he paid them back with… this.

They want him inside, and Desmond does his best to respect that- he owes them a lot, and it's the least he can do. On the other hand, he's going stir crazy stuck inside, and climbing is the only thing that helps. There's something deep inside him that just clicks when he heads for the roof, something he thinks might be leftover from his old life. It's the only thing that gives him that feeling, so no matter how bad he feels about lying to Altair and Ezio, he keeps climbing.

One Tuesday, he finds himself on the apartment's roof, watching the neighborhood as a light rain turns into a downpour. He should be inside, but he can't really bring himself to care. So he just sits there, lost in thought, until someone abruptly sits down next to him.

"I thought I'd find you up here," Altair says.

"I'm sorry," Desmond says. "I know I'm supposed to be inside, but-"

"It's pouring out," Altair says. "I highly doubt anyone's watching."

"Oh." They sit in silence for a while, then Desmond says- "I'm sorry."

"I just told you it's alright," Altair says.

"Not that," Desmond says. "Everything. I know…" he hesitates. "I know I'm not the person you want me to be. I came back wrong." He doesn't have memories. _Any _memories. There are some things he woke up knowing. Basic things, things any child would know. How to talk, walk, eat- nothing personal. Everything he knows about himself is what other people have told him. "You brought me back because you thought I could help," Desmond says. "But I only made everything harder for you."

"It's-" Altair's expression is inscrutable. Then he shakes his head. "No."

"No… what?"

"We're not doing this," Altair says. "Alright? We didn't come get you because we wanted to use you. Is that really what you think?"

"Of course." Desmond wipes the water off his face, but the rain is coming down so hard by now that the gesture is basically pointless. "I know that what you're trying to do is important, I understand that." He's heard the story. He knows that the entire world is at stake. There's a crazy woman from millions of years ago, somewhere out there, plotting to steal the free will of every human alive. "I should be able to help. I would have been able to help, but instead I died, and now that I'm back…"

"Desmond," Altair says, and now he sounds almost annoyed. "We didn't ask for this, and I'm not going to lie to you. Yes, we were expecting something else when we went after you, but that is not your fault. We would have come for you anyway. We're family."

"Family," Desmond echoes the word, knowing the meaning but not understanding it. Sounds in his mouth that he has no connection to. There are a lot of words like that. Love, hate, loss, anger, hope, death… he knows he's alive, physically, but without these connections, without words to describe what makes him human, Desmond feels more like a ghost than a real person.

He thought that knowing his story would give him these connections, but even when Altair tells him who he is, he feels… nothing.

_Family_.

He doesn't feel nothing now. Sitting on the roof with Altair in the pouring rain, the word means something to him.

"Come on," Altair says, when they've been silent for a while. "Let's go back inside."

"No," Desmond says. "Wait. I need to tell you something."

"What?"

"It's about Connor and Haytham," Desmond says. "They're not dead."

Right away, without even looking at Altair, Desmond knows he's done wrong. He should have said something earlier, because that's what normal people do when they know someone who is apparently dead is really alive. He can't even explain to himself why he held back, only that until now, the moment hasn't felt right.

But when Altair does speak, his words are not the ones Desmond expects. There's no blame or anger in them at all. "Then what happened to them?"

"I sent them away," Desmond says. "They're in another universe."

"Another-" Altair shakes his head and sighs. "It doesn't matter. We're going to get them back."


	95. Chapter 95

His dream smells faintly of trees.

Which is strange, because he can't actually see any trees. It's light, but there doesn't seem to be any source, and even with the light, he can't see much of anything. There's no reason he should be thinking 'forest', but-

_He feels the undergrowth press against his paws as he moved forward, small plants and broken twigs, along with several years' worth of dead leaves and fallen pine needles. The scent in the air speaks to him of spring and he revels in it, picking up speed until he's running-_

Haytham reels back, clutching his head. All five of his senses tell him there's nothing around him but empty space, but at the same time he can feel...

Something. It's like being in two bodies at once- one, human, standing in the middle of this blank nothingness. And the other, animal, prowling through a forest in summer-

_There's a new smell in the air, one that makes his ears perk up in general anticipation. It's the smell of prey, and it's been too long since he hunted. His stance shifts, sliding into a stealthier posture. He slides carefully along the ground, until abruptly the prey takes off-_

It's seen him-

_He takes off after it, feeling muscles designed for sprinting move smoothly under his skin. His prey is in sight-_

He pounces-

And from that moment, Haytham and the panther are one. He sees the forest, feels the thrill of the chase roaring through his veins. How long this lasts, he's not quite sure. But at some point, the forest dissolves around him and Haytham finds himself back in the empty nothingness where he first started.

He's panting, and it's not until he stops that he realizes how tired he is. Every muscle in his body aches- even his bones feel sore, like they don't quite fit the body they're in.

Then abruptly, even that nothingness fades away, and Haytham blinks as he finds himself lying on the floor of the prison where he confronted Connor. He remembers there being a torch on the wall above them, but it's burned out, leaving the room in total darkness. It takes him a few seconds to realize this, because he can see every detail perfectly, even without his eagle vision.

He sits up, ignoring his body's protests that he's been lying on the cold stone ground for too long, and looks around for Connor. His first look around the room shows him only a wolf lying on the floor, legs twitching slightly in its sleep. Then he blinks and looks again, and sees a fallen eagle, wings twisted at an odd angle against the ground.

Then the eagle opens its eyes and looks at him, and Haytham watches as Connor groans and pulls himself off the ground. For several minutes they stare at one another from opposite sides of the room, both leaning against the wall just to stay upright. Finally, Haytham asks, "What was in that tea?"

Connor half smiles, but it seems like an effort. "Nothing good," he answers. That much, of course, was obvious, and Haytham finds himself wondering if finding Washington is worth all this.

Connor doesn't seem to have any such doubts, and before Haytham even makes it to his feet, he's pacing the floor, stretching his limbs and apparently satisfied with whatever transformation the tea has worked on him. Haytham isnt so sure. He can feel that something has changed inside him- some part of the panther left behind from the dream. While he was asleep, the animal seemed to become an extension of himself. It seemed like a _gift. _But now that he's awake...

"The first time feels the worst," Connor says, startling Haytham out of his thoughts. He looks up to see his son holding a hand out to help him up. "It gets easier."

"I don't intend to experience this a second time," Haytham says. He stands up at last, ignoring Connor's hand. "Now- I think it's about time we got out of here."

Their progress is slow. Connor doesn't seem to have any problems moving around, even after spending the night in prison and mostly unconscious. Haytham, on the other hand, is struggling. He's having a hard time keeping the panther locked away where it can't hurt him. He's cursing himself inside five minutes for volunteering to do this with Connor. Five minutes after that, Connor growls at him to just let it in before he falls over.

"I'm not going to-" Haytham stumbles and Connor grabs his arm.

"Well, you might want to figure yourself out fast," he says, and Haytham turns to follow his gaze. There are three dozen bluecoats running straight at them, and that's when it all comes together. Haytham's self-control slips, and the panther lunges into the forefront of his mind before he can stop it.

After that, everything's sort of a blur. He remembers fighting- a lot of fighting. And it's not like that's anything new. He's been fighting his whole life, after all, but this is different. No- he's different. There's a fluidity to his movements that he hasn't had for years, and a speed he's never had. It's inhuman. And deep down- he loves it.

When it's over, Haytham looks around for Connor, and spies him on top of a building down the street. Before Haytham can even take a step toward him, though, there's an eagle flying down to street level.

Flying-

When Connor lands in front of him, he studies Haytham intensely, then says- "Panther?"

"Yes." He gestures between Connor and the rooftop. "Eagle?"

"And wolf," says Connor.

"Alright," Haytham says. There doesn't seem to be anything else that needs saying, so the two of them run from the scene in silence.

**-/-**

**Notes about the North American panther (also called the cougar). They're fiercely territorial, they hunt mostly at night (meaning decent night vision), and they're very fast sprinters.**

**They're also more closely related to domestic cats than predators (which may or may not come up in the future. It depends if I can resist the temptation of pointing out that Haytham is basically part giant kitty at this point).**


	96. Chapter 96

Even hearing from Desmond that Connor and Haytham aren't dead isn't enough to completely reassure Ezio that they're still alive. He's not totally sure that Desmond has the same understanding of 'dead' and 'alive' that most other people do, but he can't really blame him. He knows that Desmond has no memories of his life before being killed. Or whatever it is that happened to him with the apple. It's only natural that he might end up a little fuzzy on the whole issue.

So Desmond's word alone isn't enough to convince him the two Kenways are alive. But waking up one day in Connor's head is definitely persuasive. Eventually, anyway. His first reaction, actually, is confusion, because there's something about this mind that strikes him as… wrong. It's clearly human, but twisted into something animal. He's still trying to figure out where he is and what's going on when Connor's voice suddenly asks, _"Ezio?"_

_"Wha- Connor? What happened to you?"_

Connor doesn't answer, but he doesn't really have to. Even before he's asked the question, Ezio's already poking through Connor's recent memories, catching up on what's been happening. Normally, he wouldn't dig this deep this quickly into Connor's head, but these are unusual circumstances. Connor- normally reluctant to let almost anyone in- doesn't argue, and when Ezio finishes, he can at least guess why. If Connor had tried to just tell him this story, he would have made it maybe three sentences before Ezio started peppering him with questions.

_"This is the strangest thing that's ever happened to any of us," _Ezio says.

_"That's really saying something," _Connor says, and then lapses into silence. He's sitting at the top of a church somewhere in New York- the location is right there in Connor's mind, but Ezio doesn't know the city well enough for the specifics to matter much. Ezio watches through Connor's eyes as the other man surveys the city, but after a few minutes, decides his questions can't wait. At least one question, specifically.

_"You can turn into an eagle?"_

He can't quite keep his excitement to himself, but then again, he can feel that same excitement in Connor's mind, a joy that takes Ezio completely by surprise. He's never felt anything like this from the other man. Connor's usually the most closed off out of all of them, emotionally speaking.

_"Sort of," _Connor says, and Ezio feels him actually smile as he adds, _"Do you want to see?"_

_"Yes."_

And Connor jumps. It's not a leap of faith- Ezio's been through hundreds of those across half a dozen lifetimes, and he can tell before Connor even leaves the rooftop that there's something off about this jump. Involuntarily, his mind tenses up, expecting a fall that ends with Connor in a heap on the ground.

Only that's not what happens. Connor shifts in midair, and somehow- Ezio isn't quite sure how- his body changes. It's impossible to pinpoint the exact moment it happens, but Ezio abruptly realizes that he can feel feathers instead of fingers, and that their fall has somehow transformed into a controlled glide.

It's amazing.

Connor lands on a nearby rooftop, stumbling a little on two suddenly human legs. _"Incredible, right?" _he asks.

_"Yes." _And it is, it really, honestly is. Eagles are- they're the bird he thinks of every time he takes a leap of faith. They're the reason eagle vision has the name it does. They mean something to assassins. But still…

_"But..?" _Connor prompts, and Ezio winces. He'd meant to keep his hesitation to himself.

_"But this isn't natural," _Ezio says, and realizes how ridiculous the complaint must seem to Connor, considering that it's coming from the man riding along in his head. _"Your head, it's like…" _he struggles for the right words. _"It's like a stew. Little pieces of you mixed up with the eagle and-" _he hesitates. _"Is that a wolf?"_

Connor nods, just once. He's radiating annoyance. _"You sound like my dad," _he says.

_"Yea? Well maybe just this once, you should try listening to him."_

_"Fine." _It's not really, but Connor is angry and annoyed in a way Ezio's not used to seeing, and for now, at least, he decides to play it cautious. And he offers an olive branch. _"I'm glad you're alive," _he says.

Connor blinks. _"Why wouldn't I be?"_

_"It's a long story," _Ezio says, and offers up his own memories of the past few days. _"Desmond's been… he's not doing very well."_

_"Oh." _The anger doesn't fade away, but now there's concern there too. _"Is he going to be alright?"_

_"He's getting there," _Ezio says. What he doesn't mention is that for the moment, at least, he's more concerned about Connor's mental health than Desmond's. The eagle he can almost accept, but the wolf has him worried.

He hesitates, then asks, _"Where's Haytham?" _If Haytham's worried about this weird tea thing too (although not, according to Connor's memories, worried enough to stay away from it himself), maybe they need to have a talk.

_"Around," _Connor says, unhelpfully. _"He's supposed to meet me here soon." _Ezio nods- this is good news. He's not sure how he's going to talk to him about Connor's problems while he's physically in his head, but he'll work something out when he gets there.

The wolf growls from somewhere deep inside Connor's mind.


	97. Chapter 97

Edward is starting to figure out the differences between different peoples' minds. Altair's is the most familiar to him, because he spends so much time in the animus, but he can recognize Ezio's too. They both have their own unique feel to them, but the next mind to show up in his head is dramatically different from both of theirs.

_"Desmond,"_ he guesses, because out of all the people that he might expect to find in his head, Desmond's is the one he thinks would be the strangest. And this head is very strange indeed. Instead of traces of the apple's magic, like he could feel from Altair and Ezio, Desmond's mind is drowning in it. There's almost nothing else there, no memories, no nothing. Almost nothing, anyway. There's a few memories, all recent, and then something like a black pit that Edward decides he doesn't want anything to do with.

_"Wha-" _Desmond seems surprised, and not just by Edward guessing his name. His whole mind is radiating confusion, and Edward doesn't have to dig too deep to realize this must be the first time Desmond's been in someone's head. Or at least, the first time he can remember. _"Yea. Have we met before? Sorry, I don't- my head's kind of…" _he trails off, and Edward can sense the mental equivalent of a shoulder shrug.

_"No, but I've heard a lot about you," _Edward says, and goes back to not so subtly poking through Desmond's head. Most people would probably feel a little bad about that- especially since he spent so long resenting it when Altair tried to do the same thing to him. Edward decides he doesn't much care. _"I-"_

"Edward. Hey."

_"…was supposed to be meeting a friend," _Edward sighs. When Desmond and his weird head dropped into his brain, he completely forgot the meeting he had planned.

"Mary!" he forces a smile onto his face and tries to sound cheerful. "Good to see you."

"If you'd said that any louder, I wouldn't have to worry about keeping my name a secret anymore," she says. "Thanks, Kenway."

"Right." Edward drops his voice. "Sorry."

Mary doesn't seem reassured by his apology- instead, she crosses her arms and glares at him.

_"Wait, what?" _Desmond says. _"That's a woman?"_

_"Yea."_

_"But-"_

_"Not now, Desmond."_

"There's something wrong with you," Mary says, and Edward can't hide his sigh. This was supposed to be a night off from anything weird or serious or important. Instead, it looks like he's getting all three.

"There's nothing wrong with me," Edward protests.

"You're distracted," Mary says. "Like there's something going on in your head that's more interesting than whatever's happening in the real world. And you've been talking crazy-"

Edward can't argue either of those points- he hasn't quite mastered having one conversation in his head and another one out loud. And he's really starting to regret having his 'Distract Abstergo' conversation with Mary and Ade, because neither one of them has let it drop since then. Edward curses himself for thinking Mary wanted a normal night out. Of course this is about her continuing mission to find out what's wrong with him.

_"Why don't you just tell him?" _Desmond asks.

_"That's-"_

_"Sorry. Her."_

_"I can't," _Edward says. _"If anyone from Abstergo is listening, it would be… bad." _He stops there, not quite sure how much Desmond knows about what's going on. Altair said he told Desmond the whole story, but on the other hand, his head is… weird. Edward's not sure what information managed to stick.

_"They're not listening," _Desmond says confidently. _"They can all see the same memories, right? Which means that if anyone could see this particular memory, Altair would have access to it too, and he'd be in here too."_

Edward hesitates. That's actually a good argument, but he's still not sure if it's the best way to go.

"Seriously, Edward," Mary snaps. "You're doing it right now- that weird staring off into space thing."

In the end, when he makes the decision to tell her, it's because of the expression on her face, and not because of any kind of logic. "Fine," he says. "But I'm telling you, it's going to sound crazy."

"Everything you say sounds crazy," Mary says, half smiling.

Edward doesn't smile. Instead, he takes a deep breath and launches into his story. By the end of it, Mary isn't smiling either. But she's convinced, and Edward's surprised how much better he feels just knowing she knows his secret.

**-/-**

**Shh... there's some Kiddway leaking into this chapter, my bad... But yea I couldn't figure out where to go next so it just kind of ended up in pointless drabble territory. But at least Desmond and Edward have finally met, which is something I've been trying to get done for a while. :) Now I just need to get all three Kenways together. Preferably in a dramatic fashion.**


	98. Chapter 98

Connor is starting to think that his father is right. He's drunk the tea three times now, and he can feel it starting to take a toll on him. Physically, mentally, even emotionally- he can feel all three species struggling for dominance inside of him. The wolf, the eagle, the bear…

And the man. He shakes his head, tries to clear the blurring from his vision. It's probably not a good sign that he has to remind himself that he's still human.

"Connor?"

Not that it matters now. He's almost there, so close to Washington he can almost smell him- _the scent of fear lies thick in the air_- and he knows it won't be long until he can pry the apple from the man's hands.

"Connor!"

And then… what? He tries not to think about it. Right now, the apple gives him a goal. Having a goal holds him together, keeps him from giving in to the urge to run-_through the forest, hunting his prey alongside the pack, until-_

_-it's underneath him, and the eagle swoops down-_

_-the bear stomps the ground and roars-_

He shakes his head again, more violently. Keep it together. Focus on one thing at a time. The apple first. He can figure out where to go next from-

"Ratonhnhaké:ton!"

He jumps a little and glances backward over his shoulder. The sound of his own name- even badly mispronounced- is enough to pull him back to the present moment. Haytham's standing just behind him, looking genuinely worried. "I'm fine," Connor growls.

"You're not," Haytham says. "If I thought there was any chance you'd listen, I'd send you away now. You're in no condition to take Washington on."

"You're right." Connor turns his back on Haytham again, and strides with purpose toward Washington's headquarters. There's a crowd of bluecoats surrounding it, but he's itching for a fight anyway. "I'm not going to listen." He's fine, whatever Haytham says. Fine.

But by the time the men around the building are dead- by the time they've fought their way through the interior to Washington's throne room- by the time the man himself is in sight- Connor can't pretend anymore. He's fading. Fast. It's not like being ill, or injured. His body is as strong as ever, even after the fighting. Stronger, even, than it should be. His mind, on the other hand…

Dimly, whatever part of his mind is still human wonders if this is what the bleeding effect feels like. Not being able to keep track of his mind, feeling out of place in his own body… His body is strong, but he can barely keep himself together long enough to move it.

"There," Haytham says, voice quiet. By now he has one hand on Connor's back, guiding him forward, keeping him from falling. Connor keeps forgetting how many legs he's supposed to have. He keeps wondering why he doesn't have wings. Haytham keeps talking. His voice is completely unworried, like there's nothing wrong. They could be making small talk on a New York street corner. "On the far side of the room. Do you see him?"

It takes Connor a few seconds to understand the words, and even longer after that to force out an answer. "I see him," he says at last. His tongue feels heavy. "Do you have a plan?"

"I-"

"I see you!"

Washington stands abruptly, and Connor can see the madness on his face. He holds the apple above his head, maybe to threaten the two Kenways, maybe because he plans to use it. Either way, it doesn't matter. The second he sees it, Connor snaps. Right now, it doesn't matter what the apple is doing here, only that he's come so far to get it back.

_The bear roars, rearing back on it's hind legs-_

_-the eagle takes off like a bullet from a gun, shooting across the room-_

_-and the wolf snarls and snatches the apple out of the man's hand._

_For a moment, he stands there, clutching the strange golden ball in his mouth. The men are shouting, both at once, but the words don't mean anything. The wolf is angry. In pain. Hungry. He growls, lays his ears back against his head._

_One of the men comes closer, and the wolf hesitates. It knows the man's scent, but it doesn't know if that's good or bad. The scent brings to mind emotions too broad and complicated to handle (father, the scent means father, but what does that mean? The wolf knows predator and prey, it doesn't know… this). Instinct takes over. The man is trying to speak, saying something in a tone that's meant to be calming, but the wolf doesn't listen. It crouches, ready to leap._

_And just at that moment, the golden ball explodes into light. The wolf can feel it around him, and then he can feel it inside him. It feels wrong. And then the whole world changes._

**-/-**

**Whew! Sorry for the long (ish) delay. I ended up spending my spring break playing Infamous and writing other stuff, then I got back to school and had writer's block, so then I had to plan out the rest of this story before I could get back to it... **

**But the good news is I know how this all ends now! **

**The bad news is I got bored and now Connor's kind of a werewolf (were-wolf-eagle-bear?). Whatever. See you whenever the next chapter goes up. :)**


	99. Chapter 99

Edward's not really a tree guy. They're fine in small numbers, even helpful at times. They can be good for a quick escape when he needs to get to rooftop level, and they make a decent hiding place, because most people don't look in trees. So in small numbers, trees are fine. Forests, on the other hand, are a problem. Edward always manages to get himself lost. It's not quite so bad when Altair's around, because the man has a sense of direction as good as any compass has ever seen (he says it's called paying attention, but Edward's not sure he believes him, because all the trees look the same anyway).

Today is one of those days when Edward actually catches himself wishing Altair would show up. After an incident at the local tavern (leading to a bigger incident with some guards in the middle of town. And the edge of town. And the other edge of own) Edward finds himself in the middle of a forest. He's lost the guards, but he's also… well. Lost. Altair isn't around (of course), so Edward finds himself alone in the forest, with no way out, and- the sound of some large animal moving around abruptly interrupts his self-pity.

And now he has to deal with this.

He scans the undergrowth with eagle vision, and freezes when he sees… something. He can just about tell it's large, but any other features are impossible to make out because of the weird patchwork of colors shifting and mutating along its body. Red, blue, gold- all at once. Edward's never seen anything like it, and he switches back to normal sight just as the most enormous wolf he's ever seen comes running out, fangs bared. It stops just short of Edward, not coming any closer, but snarling when he cautiously tries backing away.

So Edward doesn't move, just stands there and stares. He doesn't usually see wolves around, and never wolves as big as this one. The animal's head is level with his waist, and its teeth- Edward decides that he'd rather not think about the teeth. Or the claws.

The wolf looks sick. Its fur is matted and filthy, and its eyes are a blue so bright they almost glow. They look mad, and Edward draws a knife out as quietly as he can. Most animals don't attack humans, not unless they have no other choice, but Edward doesn't know what to make of the beast in front of him.

He moves, knife held in front of him, but it only just barely slashes the wolf's skin- at the last second it moves out of the way and Edward watches in horror as it transforms into a bear. Even in a world that's gone as strange as his has lately, wolves turning into bears is not something he knows how to deal with.

He trips over his own feet and falls backwards. For a second that seems to last forever, he just lies there, totally incapable of moving as the bear roars and rears back on its hind legs. It has the same blue eyes as the wolf, the same sick look. But Edward only half notices this. The rest of his mind is too busy figuring out that the thing's going to kill him. He knows it's going to kill him, which is sort of weird, actually because he's met the kid he's going to have, and he hasn't had him yet-

Something slams into the bear, knocking it off Edward and onto the ground, where Edward gets half a glimpse of a man with glowing eyes before blinking, and suddenly there's an eagle flying on unsteady wings away from a panther on the ground.

The fight that follows is one of the strangest Edward's ever seen. Or maybe _the _strangest. The… wolf-bear-person-eagle-thing is erratic and in pain, lashing out like a thing possessed, but the panther is calm and controlled the entire time, never looking to kill its opponent, only keep it down.

And then suddenly, the fight is over. The panther knocks the wolf off its feet, and it's the man that falls to the ground, eyes shut, breathing shallowly. Edward watches as the panther shifts into a man, and this is someone Edward does know, at least by sight. "Haytham!" he calls. "What is going on here?"

"Ah-" Edward could almost pity the man, just for the look on his face, if he wasn't so preoccupied by the fact that five minutes ago, he was nearly mauled by something that looks like it's made up of half the animal kingdom. Haytham recovers quickly, or at least hides his emotions away for the moment. "It's complicated." He drops to his knees, checks the man on the ground for a pulse. Edward edges cautiously forward. This close, he thinks he recognizes the man, but last time Edward checked, Connor wasn't three different kinds of animals. Of course, Haytham wasn't a panther, either.

"What happened?" he asks.

"Any…" Haytham taps the side of his head. "Listeners?"

"No." Edward can't feel anyone other than Altair when they go through his head, but he knows they all have access to the same set of his memories. So if Altair's not there to listen in, neither is anyone else. "It's just the three of us, so tell me what's going on. Last I heard, the two of you were either missing or dead."

"Just in another universe," Haytham says in a voice that Edward thinks is far too calm. Then he tells Edward a story, one so impossible that Edward's not completely sure he can believe it. During the whole thing, though, Haytham never once looks at Edward- his gaze is entirely focused on Connor as he looks him over for injuries.

He finishes his story and his examination at the same time, and Edward asks, "Is he going to be alright?"

"Physically?" Haytham nods. "I think so. He's exhausted and his injuries are going to take a while to heal. But they will heal. His mind, on the other hand…" He shakes his head. "I don't much like what the tea did to him. It started off slow but by the time we got to Washington, he was pretty much gone, and then… well, you saw."

"But you took some too, didn't you?" Edward asks. "You're not going to-"

"I took a lot less than he did," Haytham says. "Besides, if I end up in the same situation, who's going to keep an eye on Connor?"

Edward watches Haytham watch Connor. He genuinely can't tell what their relationship is. From everything he's heard and seen, they're competitive. They fight. They've tried to kill each other at least once. But at the same time, Haytham _has _to care for Connor, or he wouldn't be fighting so hard to save him.

"Do you need somewhere to stay?" Edward hears the words come out of his mouth before he consciously decides to say them. "Until Connor gets back on his feet. Or paws. Or… wings…" He trails off, uncomfortably aware of how intensely Haytham's staring at him.

"Thank you," Haytham says at last.

Edward can't help but wonder what he's getting himself into. And why- he's spent a lot of his life running away from whatever family he has left, with varying amounts of success. But there's something about the way Haytham looks at Connor, everything he goes through to keep him alive. Edward's left looking at it from the outside, wondering what it feels like to care that much about a son. Or- anyone, really.

"We should…" he drops his gaze, gestures at the still unconscious Connor. "We should get him out of here."


	100. Chapter 100

The apartment the assassins stay in is in an old building, almost empty and covered in graffiti. It looks like one good storm away from falling down, but that's not true- Desmond's seen two bad storms since he moved in, and the building's still there. Although at this point, maybe it's being held up purely by graffiti. There's more now than there was a week ago. Desmond watches kids come by at night sometimes and add to it. It's easier to sit up and watch the neighborhood than to try sleeping through the night.

He hasn't been sleeping well. There are nightmares- darkness and everything he remembers from his time being dead. Or whatever he was. So at night he sits up and watches the taggers at work, and during the day he pretty much does the same thing. Most of the time nobody comes by with a can of spray paint in the middle of the day, but there's always people around to watch.

That's why he notices them. Most of the people that go through this neighborhood, Desmond can recognize on sight. These two are different. They're strangers, but they walk with purpose, like they know where they're going and they've been there before. Desmond watches right up until the moment they disappear into the apartment's lobby, then he goes looking for Ezio. The older man is in the kitchen.

"Hey," Desmond says, and he's surprised as always to hear the words come out in Italian. It's not the apple translating for him, the way Altair's does for him, so that means he actually knows the language. It's the weirdest thing, since he doesn't actually remember learning it. Of course, he doesn't remember learning English, either. "Are you expecting someone?"

"No," Ezio says. "Is someone here?"

"A man and a woman just went into the lobby."

"Oh." Ezio's body language shifts just slightly, ready to move if something happens. "Anyone we know?"

Desmond gives him a skeptical look. "Maybe you know them," he says. "I've never even met a woman." Not that he remembers, anyway.

"Oh." Ezio shrugs. "Well, at least you have something to look forward to."

There's a knock on the door, and the two of them glance at it, then at each other. "I'll get it," Desmond says, and a few moments later he's opening the door to see the same man and woman standing there. They all stare at one another for a minute, then the woman makes a noise like a dying cat and abruptly hugs him.

"Hey!" he protests. "What-" But she's clearly not listening, so Desmond just stands there limply until the stranger lets him go again.

"You were dead!" the woman says. "And all this time, you've just been hiding out, and no one bothered to tell us? I-"

"Look," Desmond interrupts. "I have no idea who you are."

The man snorts. "Yea, and I have no idea what's going on," he says. "So how about you start from the beginning?"

So they spend the next few hours having the most awkward conversation of Desmond's life. The most awkward one he can remember, anyway. Considering the fact that he's been re-alive for less than a month, and weird stuff like this is already happening, he figures it's probably a safe bet that the parts of his life he doesn't remember must have been pretty weird too.

The man's name is Shaun, and the woman's is Rebecca. He's heard about them from Altair and Ezio, but actually meeting them in person is… good? Maybe? It makes a nice change to have someone else to talk to. But it's also bad, because they know him, and he doesn't know them at all. The conversation moves in bursts- they'll talk for a while like it's the most natural thing in the world, and then Desmond will say something wrong, something he wouldn't have said before, and they all just sit in silence and stare at the walls or the ceiling or the floor but definitely not at each other.

It's during one of these awkward, silent moments that Desmond asks, "Why did you guys come over today, anyway? I mean, it wasn't for me, so why-"

"Oh!" Rebecca nods, her eyes going wide. "Shaun!"

"Ow!" he rubs his arm and scowls at her. "You didn't have to hit me."

"We totally forgot," she says, and turns back to Desmond. "Abstergo is holding Altair prisoner."

"What? How did you forget to mention something like that? He could be dead, they could have killed him while we've just been sitting around talking-"

"Calm down," Shaun says. "He's not that kind of prisoner."

Desmond hesitates. "I think you lost me," he admits.

"They grabbed a lot of their employees this morning," Rebecca tells him. "Pretty much the whole sample seventeen team, because they know someone on that floor's been hacking their files, but they haven't figured out who it is."

"Yet," Shaun adds.

"Not helping," Rebecca says, and continues without missing a beat. "It's not all that much of a prison, actually. More like an apartment with doors that stay locked all the time."

"Yea…" Desmond hasn't been out of the apartment since the day he first walked in. Right now, it's all he can do to handle the world from behind the safety of four solid walls. "Wonder what that's like."

**-/-**

**Guys, look, it's chapter 100. :) And it's a super unexciting one. :( But anyway, since this is a pretty milestone chapter, I figured I'd take a second and say THANK YOU too all the people that read, review, favorite, or alert this story because you guys are cool people. Stay classy.**


	101. Chapter 101

Altair wakes with a splitting headache and no idea where he is. Strangely, his first reaction is annoyance- he doesn't have _time _to deal with yet another mystery. He sighs and resigns himself to the fact that his life has apparently reached a level of absurdity where this barely even registers with him as a problem.

But seriously. Back home, Desmond's still readjusting to being alive, and the Kenways are still missing (Ezio's recent visit to Connor's head is reassuring, but Altair won't feel comfortable with the whole situation until they're back where they're supposed to be). On top of that, he's still coming in to work, still trying to figure out a way to tell Rebecca and Shaun that Desmond's still alive (he's half hoping it'll somehow work itself out without him, because that conversation probably won't be fun). And honestly- he's still not completely comfortable in this century. Sometimes he feels like nothing more than the world's strangest soccer mom, except instead of juggling kids and sports practices he has half a dozen extremely distant relatives scattered across multiple centuries and two universes.

Still grumbling to himself, Altair rubs his head and gets up to examine the room and figure out where he is. To be honest, there's not a lot of mystery. The Abstergo symbol is everywhere he looks, and the doors are locked when he tries them. So- templar cell somewhere. But whoever set this prison up has gone through a lot of trouble to keep it from looking like one. So, comparing this place to the one he remembers from when he first met Desmond, Altair decides he must still be at Abstergo Entertainment. That's the good news, because there's way less templars here than at most places Abstergo controls.

The bad news comes when he finally thinks to look at the computer waiting for him on the room's desk. Probably most people would have checked that first, which is why Melanie left a message there. It explains that, no, there's nothing seriously wrong but someone's been hacking secure computers over the last couple months, and until they figure out who's responsible, all sample seventeen employees will be detained on premises. He wonders if it's really about the hacking, or if it has something to do with Desmond's body getting stolen, too. No one's mentioned it in a few days, but that doesn't mean it's not still an issue. It just means that no one wants to talk about it.

Then again, there's no reason for them to specifically suspect anyone from the sample seventeen floor, so it probably is just the hacking. Altair curses John, loud and long, as he turns away from the computer. Then he curses himself, for being stupid enough to get drawn into this in the first place. He came into this job knowing why it's important, knowing he needs to keep a low profile. And instead, this happens.

His communicator crackles, and Altair seriously considers pulling it out of his ear and throwing it at the wall when he hears John's voice come through it. "Hey," he drawls. "Look who's awake." Altair doesn't answer, but John obviously doesn't mind filling the silence himself. "How do you like your new set up?" he asks. "Nice, isn't it? Probably better than wherever you're staying on your new guy paycheck, right?"

"At least I have the key to my place," Altair snaps.

"You sound a little angry," John says in a deadpan voice. "I think I can help with that."

"I don't think I need your help," Altair says.

"Yea, actually, you do," John says. "Melanie's down here now reviewing the security footage. You need me to get you out of your little prison and distract her while you erase the evidence of you hacking their computers."

"Fine." Altair finally manages to spit the word out. He's really had more than enough of John from IT, and whatever game he's playing here. This, he swears to himself, is the last time. Once those records are gone, and there's nothing to tie him to the man, he plans on never speaking to him again.

"Great." The door beeps and slides open. "Level three clearance. Have fun."

Altair spends the next half hour or so not having fun. Once John gets Melanie out of the way, there's still the actual hacking to do. Even with John's usual tools to help him out, it still takes a while. He's just managed to get the last of it off when he hears a noise from somewhere nearby, and tenses.

"You!"

He knows that tone. It's one he's heard many times before, the _I've seen you before and I never wanted to see you again _tone. Most assassins tend to hear it a lot, and Altair's already tensing up as he turns back around to see a giant, floating, glowing face in the air. "You," he says in the same tone, because the face is Juno's.

"You should be dead," Juno says, voice angry. "Hundreds and hundreds of years ago." Altair can't help but think that this is a little hypocritical, coming from a woman who spent millennia plotting her way back to life, but decides that right now isn't the time to say anything. "He was supposed to bring me a body!" Juno snarls. "Yours won't do. Dirty, corrupted-" she makes a noise that's half anger and half pure frustration, then vanishes.

"What's going on?!"

It's John again, and this time, Altair is more than willing to talk. The man has some questions to answer. "That's something I should be asking you," Altair says, but John isn't listening.

"She was supposed to be here, really here, and I was supposed to be the one to bring her back-"

The madness is so thick in his voice that Altair can't believe he never heard it there before. And suddenly he's angry, because he doesn't understand exactly what's going on here (honestly, he's given up trying to understand what any of the precursors have planned), but he thinks he understands enough. Juno and John are working together. Juno wants a new body, and John manages to deliver her one she can't use- maybe because of the time travel, maybe because he's supposed to be dead, maybe for some completely arbitrary reason he can't even guess at.

"You've ruined everything!" John yells, and that's the last Altair hears from him.

He decides it's probably time to get out of Abstergo.

**-/-**

**Two chapters in one day. I'd pretend like I'm on a roll, but actually I've had this sitting on my computer for like a week, just waiting for an appropriate place to stick it into the plot.**

**Actually never mind, forget that. I'm totally on a roll.**


	102. Chapter 102

Edward's not having a good week.

Actually, he's pretty sure this might be the worst week he's ever had, and he's had some pretty bad ones. Maybe, when he gets out of here, he'll stop by a tavern, get himself some drinks, and maybe the whole thing won't look quite as bad.

If he gets out of here.

_"You'll get out fine," _Altair snaps in his head. _"Calm down."_

Edward's spent the last week waiting for Connor to wake up (and, come to think of it, that's probably something he should probably mention to Altair when they have a second where he's not dying). Just today, after finally getting inside the Observatory he's been chasing after for years, he was betrayed by Roberts and trapped in the place. Now he's treading water in an ancient, hidden building, hoping there's a way out of this. He's really not in the mood to listen to Altair telling him to calm down, and he very nearly says it out loud before forcing himself to swallow the words down. Judging by the man's tone, and how distracted he seems right now, he's probably not going to listen anyway.

So instead, Edward takes half a second to dig through Altair's recent memories, which turns out to be a good thing. It looks like he's having an even worse week than Edward. _"What are you even doing in the animus right now?" _he asks. _"Shouldn't you be getting out of the building before John tells security to go after you, or something?"_

_"Yes," _Altair says. He sounds like he's only half paying attention. Edward guesses that the other man is probably more interested in figuring out how to get out of Abstergo alive than in this conversation. Which is only fair, because Edward is more interested in figuring out how to get out of the Observatory than in this conversation. _"But if something goes wrong, I may have to leave town for a while, and if that happens, I need you to let the others know what happened."_

_"Alright." _Edward heaves himself out of the water and onto a nearby pillar. He doesn't see any way out of the place yet, but he's not going to just stay still and wait to die. He'll find something if he looks for long enough. _"I'll tell them if I see them first."_ Not that he thinks for a second that Altair's going to have trouble getting out, not based on what he's seen from the man. He's halfway up the wall at this point, trying to make a tricky jump, when he suddenly remembers that he has news too. _"Oh, hey-"_

But it's too late. Message delivered, Altair logs out of the animus, leaving Edward alone in his head. Edward sighs and finishes, even though he knows there's no one around to listen. _"…Haytham and Connor are here too, by the way. And Connor's… not doing so well."_

Nothing he can do about it now, so Edward keeps climbing until he finds a way out of the Observatory. That's the good news. The bad news is that by this point he's exhausted, and when he gets back to the beach he's about ready to drop. _And _Roberts is waiting for him there with a loaded gun and a smile that makes Edward want to punch him.

"Roberts!" he yells, as soon as he's within earshot. It's mostly just frustration and anger, though. There's nothing he wants to say to the man that he couldn't say better with his blades.

"Kenway." Robert's smile only grows wider. "I'm glad to see you're still alive. It would be difficult to collect the bounty on your head if you were already dead."

The situation doesn't look good. He's surrounded, too tired to put up a decent fight, and Roberts doesn't look like he's going to give him the chance, anyway. That's when one of Roberts' men lets out a blood curdling scream, and everyone standing on the beach- Edward, Roberts, every last sailor- turns to stare as a wolf leaps at the man and tears out his throat.

After that, it's chaos. Connor rips through the sailors like some sort of monster (Edward makes a mental note to never make this comparison out loud), and Haytham- while a lot more subtle than his son- proves to be just as deadly. Edward tries his best to help, but he can barely stay on his own feet. Before he knows it, Roberts and most of his men are on the run, and Haytham's at his side to keep him from falling. "What just happened?" Edward asks.

"Long story," Haytham says. "Connor woke up. Finally." He casts a glance over at Connor, who's human again, but looking shaky and pale. "We heard something about Roberts going after the bounty on your head and came to see if you needed help."

"Well, you know. I could have taken them if I had to."

"Of course," Haytham says dryly. "Now let's get moving, unless you want them to take your ship."

"Hang on," Edward interrupts. "We have other problems." As quickly as he can, he explains what he learned from Altair. "He's in trouble," he finishes. "I mean, I'm sure he can take care of himself, but…"

"But it's about time we get back there anyway," Haytham says, nodding. "But I'm not sure how we can do that."

"I have an apple."

Edward and Haytham turn to look at Connor, who's standing several feet away, examining one of the bodies. "You've had it for a few days," Haytham says dismissively. "And you've been unconscious most of that time."

"Also kind of insane," Edward says.

Haytham shoots him a 'why would you say that' look and then turns back to Connor. "Nobody learns how to use the apples that quickly."

"But this is an emergency," Connor argues. "The apples have always been the most responsive when we absolutely need them."

"I'm just not sure you're up to it," Haytham says.

Connor gives him a long, flat stare, but doesn't speak. Instead, he starts to glow. Edward watches with interest, because he hasn't much of the apple at work before. It starts out slowly, then abruptly climaxes into something so bright Edward has to close his eyes and turn away. When the light fades, and he can look back, Haytham and Connor are gone.

For a long moment, he stares at the place where they were, feeling disturbingly alone. "Good luck," he says aloud, and turns to look for a way off the island.


	103. Chapter 103

For one disorienting second after he opens his eyes, Altair's not sure if he's actually logged out of the animus, because the first thing he sees is a face that shouldn't be there. It should be in the Caribbean during the early eighteenth century, not twenty first century America.

The man smiles in a self-satisfied manner when he sees Altair staring. "That's right," he says. "You and I have never met face to face. Not in this century, anyway."

The face is identical to Roberts', but the voice is John's. Even more importantly, he's holding a gun in one hand, and it doesn't take a lot of imagination to figure out what he's planning to use the gun for. "So you're John," he says. Better to keep the man talking until he figures out what's going on here. It's not so much that Altair thinks he couldn't take John in a fight, but if he kills the man now, he'll never know what he wants.

"Yea," John says. "And you-" he leans forward, keeping the pistol trained squarely on Altair. "Are a mystery. Also, annoying."

"Well, so are you," Altair says. "How about this- you tell me your story, I'll tell you mine."

"Or I could just shoot you now," John says. "Believe me, I would really like to."

"You could have killed me while I was still in the animus," Altair says. "Instead you waited for me to wake up."

John glares at him. Altair looks back, careful to keep his own expression neutral. Finally the man nods and lets the gun drop, just slightly. "Alright, he says. I tell you, then you tell me, then I shoot you."

Or not, Altair thinks but does not say.

"You've been paying attention in the animus, right?" he asks. "You seem, you know. Intelligent. Sort of. More than most of the losers that work here. You're probably not one of those guys that skips past all the talking bits to get to the next part with swords and cannons. You remember the sage Kenway met?"

"Yes."

"That was me- well, sort of."

"There's been more than one sage," Altair says slowly. He's starting to put things together. "There have been a lot. Every once in a while some poor kid gets born with the wrong genes and they- you- start to remember things."

"I was right. You are smart."

"But what are you remembering?" Altair asks. "Previous lives?"

"One in particular," John says, and smiles a crooked smile. "Those precursors the assassins and templars are so obsessed with? I remember them. I was there. _I was one of them."_

And what strikes Altair at that moment is an overwhelming feeling of pity. How many people throughout history have been born with these memories? With the knowledge of another people, with the burning need to-

"I was going to bring her back," John says. "And you ruined that. She wouldn't take your body, and I want to know why."

"I don't know," he says.

"You're lying," John says. "Lying! You said you'd tell me who you are!"

"I will." He's not sure if it's even going to mean anything to John, but then- he doesn't expect him to live much longer, either. A man like this is dangerous. "I-"

And that's when he sees the flash of golden light, and the next thing he knows, John is dead on the ground with his throat ripped out, and there's an enormous wolf standing over him. It all happens in a split second, so quickly that Altair is left blinking like a moron and wishing he had a weapon-

"Would you stop _doing _that," a voice says. It sounds mostly exasperated, and Altair turns to see Haytham behind him.

"Haytham," he says. "What are you doing here? Where's Connor?"

The man sighs and points back at the wolf- only when Altair blinks it's not a wolf sitting there but Connor, looking tense and ill. "It's a long story."

"Ezio mentioned something about… animals," Altair says. "He didn't mention…" he looks at Connor, at the strange light in his eyes, and does not say 'insanity'.

"Yes." Haytham also looks at Connor, and also does not say 'insanity'. "Things have started to get complicated. We need to get out of here."

Altair nods, and because he's closest to the door, he turns to lead the way out. On the way, he steps over the mangled mess of a body that had been John less than a minute before. He glances down, and instantly regrets it. He's seen a lot of dead bodies in his life. Some of them even looked worse than John does now, but most of those people weren't killed by humans. Wild animals could do this to a person. Sometimes a plague will leave nasty looking corpses behind. Altair once saw a man who had been crushed to death in a rockslide.

But this is different. It's hard to believe a human would be capable of completely wrecking somebody like this. In his brief glance downward, Altair sees blood oozing from a rough looking wound on his throat. Tooth marks. Jagged claw marks across his face. And-

And he's still moving. Altair stops, and Haytham makes an annoyed noise as he almost walks into him. "What's the matter?" he asks.

"John's still alive," Altair says. He looks from Haytham to Connor, and adds, in a very quiet voice, "Do you understand?"

Connor looks back at him, but so does the wolf, along with whatever else might be living in his head. It's not comfortable looking into the man's eyes, but Altair forces himself not to blink. At this point, he's actually used to having conversations with people that are half out of their mind, or half in somebody else's mind, or just totally amnesiac. Most of the time he's just making it up as he goes along, trying to keep them all together, trying to keep everyone relatively sane. So he knows what he's looking at on Connor's face, and he can see the part of him that _does_ understand fighting against the animal parts, the parts that don't.

He's not sure which side of Connor is going to win until Connor gives him a short nod, and bends over John. The man's still bleeding out, and he could be for quite a while. His eyes stare up at the three of them, and his mouth works soundlessly as he struggles to say something. It's obvious he's in a lot of pain, and _that's not what they do._

John's hand moves weakly, grasping Connor's wrist. Then the assassin slides his hidden blade out of it's sheathe with a soft click, and slides the blade into John's body. A moment later, the hand on Connor's arm goes limp and falls to the ground.

"Alright." Altair clasps Connor briefly on the shoulder. It looks like there might just be enough of the man left to save. "Let's get going."

**-/-**

**...I'm starting to wonder if everyone in this fic is going to be certifiable by the time I'm done with this. **


	104. Chapter 104

Desmond's on a rooftop three blocks away from the apartment when he sees Altair on the street below. He very briefly argues with himself over whether or not to go down and meet him. Nobody's ever come right out and said he shouldn't leave the apartment, but he doesn't need to be told that he's got no memories and no idea what to do with himself in public. On the other hand, he can't stand being stuck inside the almost empty apartment, and after meeting Rebecca and Shaun, he feels… better. It's like there's a wall cutting him off from his old life, everything he used to be before he died. And now, for the first time, he feels like that wall might come down someday.

Maybe that's why he's spent today wandering around the neighborhood. Ezio went out somewhere early (grumbling the entire time because, as Desmond is quickly learning, Ezio is not much of a morning person). And after that… well, the apartment walls are closing in.

He watches Altair until the man looks straight up at him, at which point he decides there's not much point in staying out of sight, and climbs down to the street. By the time he gets down there, he's noticed that Altair's not alone. It isn't obvious at first because the other two are keeping out of sight a block or two behind, but by the time Desmond's feet are back on solid ground, he's pretty sure the three of them are together.

"You look better than when I left." Altair offers Desmond a thin smile that doesn't manage to hide the stress on his face. He looks like he's barely slept since the morning he left the apartment.

"You don't, though," Desmond says. "What happened?"

But Altair only shakes his head and says, "Not here."

"But-"

"We're in public," Altair says, and starts to walk again.

"There's no one around."

"Which would matter if we were in a century that didn't have cameras and satellites and dozens of ways of spying on people that I don't even know about," Altair snaps.

Desmond looks at him, takes in the expression on his face, and decides not to press the issue. Clearly, Altair is not having a very good day, and he's pretty sure the story will come out eventually. "Right," he says. "Cameras." That's actually something he should have thought of.

"Just talk about something else," Altair says.

"Okay." Desmond glances over his shoulder. "Can I ask who they are?"

"You- oh. Right." Altair sighs and shakes his head. "Of course you don't remember them."

"I can't help it," Desmond mutters, more defensively than he meant to.

"I know," Altair says. "And to answer your question, no, you can't ask about them."

"Okay…" Desmond glances over his shoulder one last time, ignoring the look Altair shoots his way. Of the two men following behind them, the older seems more or less normal. Not really _normal _normal, because if he knows Altair than there's probably something messed up about the guy, but definitely normal compared to the other man.

That one's… strange. In his brief glance backwards, Desmond gets a confusing impression of something animal trapped in a human body, of legs and arms that don't quite work the way their owner expects them to, of eyes that glow an unnatural blue. Desmond can't stop himself from shivering a little, and he doesn't say anything else until they get back to the apartment.

At that point, things get a little chaotic. Desmond's never seen the apartment as crowded or as loud as it is now- Ezio is back by the time they get in, and at some point someone calls Rebecca and Shaun, so they show up too, and for a while everything's so busy and loud that Desmond has a hard time keeping track of it all, but it's pretty clear that they're gathering what forces they have, and that something big is about to happen.

Things are calming down a little when someone- it happens to be Rebecca- finally realizes that Desmond still has no idea who the two newcomers are, and bothers to introduce them. "Hey Desmond," she calls. "You don't remember Haytham or Connor, do you?"

"No," Desmond says, and looks past her at the two Kenways. "I-" he hesitates, because he's heard a lot about them, and he knows that at some point he actually did know them, and he should probably say something about that but he's not sure what. "Sorry," he blurts, before the silence can go on for too long. "I mean about sending you into another dimension and everything when I first woke up."

Haytham waves a dismissive hand. "These things happen," he says, and then appears to think about that. "To us, anyway."

"But-"

"In any case," Haytham says, speaking over him. "From what I hear, you're not doing so well yourselves these days."

Desmond shrugs. "I can't remember the first twenty five years of my life," he says. "But other than that I think I'm doing okay."

"It could be worse," Haytham agrees, and Desmond can't miss the way he suddenly glances over at Connor. He never gets a chance to ask what's wrong with him, though, because there's a sudden shift in the atmosphere of the room. Everyone's sort of been standing around talking to each other and getting caught up (or, in Desmond's case, meeting new people).

Now they come together into one large group as Altair starts to explain everything that's happened to him over the past couple of days. After that, Haytham gives a very concise version of a story that even by Desmond's increasingly generous standards sounds weird.

Then Shaun speaks for the first time. "Hold up," he says. "I understand that you guys have your own weird ways of figuring out who's inside whose head, or in the animus, or whatever, but it sounds like there's enough going on here that even the grunts at Abstergo are going to notice soon."

"Exactly," Altair says. "So there's two things we're going to do. We're going to cut them off from the animus, and then we're going after Juno."

"Right," Shaun says. "No big deal or anything."

"It needs to get done," Altair says. "So we're doing it."

Shaun settles for muttering to himself, and Rebecca speaks up. "The first part should actually be pretty easy," she says. "I know they have people at other facilities that can work an animus- I mean, they're the guys that invented the thing. But at this facility, they only ever had one guy. And if John's dead now-"

"He's dead," Haytham says quickly. "Very definitely dead." Connor nods from the back of the room.

"Then their machines are probably falling to pieces as we speak," Rebecca says. "They're extremely complicated, and working with them is sort of like- okay, you know when you really need to print something, that's exactly when everything goes wrong with the printer runs out of ink, and the paper jams, and-"

Shaun coughs pointedly.

"Right," Rebecca finishes. "Well, the animi are like that pretty much all the time. Honestly I'm not surprised John didn't have time to do his own hacking with a building full of them to do maintenance on all by himself."

"They won't all be going down at once, though," Haytham points out.

"No," Rebecca agrees. "But there's more good news."

"Wow," Desmond says. "I literally can't remember ever hearing that before. It's usually more _bad_ news."

"Well, there's a first time for everything," says Rebecca. "But basically there's two ways to supply an animus with the DNA it needs to run. The easiest one is to use the DNA of the person actually sitting in the animus, but what Abstergo's been doing is taking bits of your DNA to run their machines with. But that means they need to refresh that DNA fairly regularly. That's why they kept your body around when you were, you know. Dead."

"Oh!" At least it explains something he's been wondering about, but if Abstergo was stealing bits of his DNA the whole time he was dead, it explains why he came back with six fingernails missing and a patchwork haircut. "But I haven't been there in a while."

"They're on a schedule," Rebecca says. "And their time ran out this morning."

"So what you're saying is that Abstergo can't see any of Edward's memories?" Altair asks.

"Not unless they get Desmond back," says Rebecca.

"Perfect," says Altair. "Then we're bringing Edward in on this too." He looks over at Shaun. "You had a point- this is going to be very difficult, and we need every ally we can get."

"You're going yourself?" Haytham says.

"I'd rather stay here and figure out what our plan is," Altair says, "But no one else can time travel with the kind of precision we need."

Haytham shrugs, acknowledging the point, but Desmond says, "I can do it." And he can. He knows he can. He knows the apples are supposed to be difficult to work with, but he's never had that problem. Maybe it's some weird side effect of his missing memories, or maybe just the ten months he spent with his mind trapped inside the apple. Whichever it is, he knows he can pull this off.

"Alright," Altair says, and Desmond only just manages to stop himself from grinning by remembering that this is a very serious situation. Just over an hour ago he was sneaking out on rooftops to get out of the apartment, and here he is with the promise of a whole new century to mess around with. He stands up, conscious of six pairs of eyes on him, and summons up the apple's power.

He vanishes in a blink or you'll miss it flash of gold, but just as the twenty first century gives way to the eighteenth, he hears what might be the beginning of a scream, abruptly cut off. He's not sure if it's because he switched time zones midscream, or because something's happened to stop the screamer from screaming.

He thinks about going back for just a second, but before he can act on the thought someone comes running at him with a sword, and suddenly he has more pressing issues. He smiles again, because this is going to be _fun._


	105. Chapter 105

Rebecca's the first one to speak when it's all over. She's shaking slightly, but Haytham has to admit that her voice is completely calm when she looks at Shaun and says, "You scream like a girl."

Shaun turns red but doesn't answer. Ezio says something angry, and Haytham wishes the man still had his apple, or that he'd at least taken the time to learn English before he lost it. Altair answers him in terse Italian, and Haytham finds his eyes unavoidably drawn to the one person in the room he does not want to look at.

Connor.

Later, he'll regret that his first thought is that Connor's caused him nothing but trouble since the day they met. It doesn't seem to matter if they're trying to kill each other or work together. His life would be a lot more simple if Connor was out of it, but it suddenly strikes Haytham that he doesn't want that. After everything they've been through, he can't give up now. But this time…

Haytham forces himself not to look away from Connor, but it takes an effort. Out of everything he's seen the tea do, this is the worst. He curses Connor for drinking it, and curses himself for following him down that road- it hasn't gotten him yet the way it's come for Connor, but then he never took as much. With any luck, he'll be able to keep himself sane. Or at least, what happened to Connor won't end up happening to him.

He realizes he's trying not to think about it, and that not thinking about it is probably the worst thing he can do. They need to figure out what happened. Without taking his eyes off Connor, Haytham says, "It was the apple, right? That's what triggered it?"

Altair and Ezio are still arguing, so it's Rebecca that answers. "Yea," she says. "I mean, I'm no expert, but- yea, it looked like that. When Desmond left…"

Haytham nods. He remembers seeing the apple flare as Desmond vanished, but that's a sight he's more or less used to by now. He'd barely even been paying attention until he saw an answering flare from Connor's apple. After that, everything's a little bit of a blur. He remembers turning toward Connor, and seeing something that is definitely not his son. It wears his skin, but the thing looking back at Haytham is completely animal. This isn't like before. That was just Connor losing control, but it's pretty obvious that Connor's not in there at all, now.

Haytham only has a second to take this in before the thing that isn't Connor drops onto all fours and- still human shaped- lunges for Shaun, who has the bad luck to be closest. When Rebecca said he screamed like a girl, she was not exaggerating. Luckily for him, Ezio has quick reactions. Whatever wakes up in Connor's body is going to have a nasty headache and a lump, but at least no one's dead.

"He's going to wake up like Desmond."

Haytham doesn't realize that he's the one that spoke until everyone looks at him. There's a long, awkward pause, and when it's clear that nobody else is going to fill it, Haytham does. After all, it is a valid concern. "We have to face the possibility," he says. "It's not the same situation, but you said that when Desmond came back he didn't have memories. And it's obvious that's not all he's missing." It didn't take more than one conversation for Haytham to figure out that it's more than just names and facts and memories that Desmond's missing. He's lost twenty five years of experiences, and that's a lot. In some ways, talking to Desmond was like talking to a child, and Connor's lost even more than Desmond has.

They won't know for sure until Connor wakes up, but Haytham has a bad feeling that he's lost his _humanity_. And that thought terrifies him. "Come on," Altair says quietly. "We'll put him in the other room until we know more. Just in case."

Between the two of them, they manage to get Connor into a bedroom and onto a bed. "I can take care of this now," Haytham says. "Go make your plans. I'll be here when you need me."

"If you're sure."

"I'll be here," Haytham repeats. "And so will Connor."

Altair nods and leaves the room- when he's gone, Haytham crosses to the door and locks it. Any of the assassins in the apartment could unlock it without a second thought- even Shaun, probably- but hopefully they can take the hint. Then it's just a waiting game. Haytham sits down in a desk chair and watches Connor. At first he seems completely dead to the world, still out cold from the blow to his head, but after a while he shifts into a more natural sleep. Natural for given values of natural- he ends up curled in a tight ball, growling slightly at whatever he's dreaming about.

Haytham's spent enough time with Connor since the tea to recognize the wolf- it shouldn't really come as a surprise that out of all the animals sharing headspace with Connor, it would be the wolf. It was the first one in, and it's always been the strongest.

And that's when the wolf opens its eyes .Haytham tenses, but doesn't draw his blade. Instead he stands and waits for whatever's going to happen next. The wolf uncurls and drops from the bed, circling Haytham cautiously. It should be a ridiculous sight- Connor on all fours, studying him like a predator deciding whether or not to strike. But it doesn't. Even trapped in Connor's human form, the wolf has a certain grace to its movements. Then it shakes itself like a wet dog, and a change ripples down its body- Haytham blinks, and suddenly there's an actual wolf there, staring at him.

So the wolf can switch between forms the way Connor can when he's in control. Good to know. He stares at the wolf, and the wolf stares back. Then it pads toward him, and Haytham flicks his wrist, readying his hidden blade. He doesn't want to use it, but he's not so sure he'll have a choice.

Then the wolf lies down contentedly at his feet and goes back to sleep. For a very long moment he stays quiet, not quite sure if he can believe what he's seeing. Then he laughs.

"Are you alright?"

Haytham sighs, but doesn't turn around. "Altair. I was hoping you would take the locked door as a hint."

"I heard you laughing and thought something might be wrong."

"Funny."

Altair crouches down next to the wolf, careful to say a safe distance away. "Now he's a wolf."

"Yes."

"Anything left of him in there?"

"I'm not sure," Haytham admits.

"I could check," Altair says. "Go look around inside his head." The wolf opens one eye and growls. "Or not."

"I don't think he trusts you," Haytham says. "The wolf doesn't have the same loyalties as Connor."

Altair nods. "So he only knows what he's seen as a wolf?"

"I suppose."

"Then you must have done a lot for him." Altair says, and stands back up. "Do you think he'll let you in his head?"

Haytham waits, but the wolf doesn't even twitch. "I think he just might."

**-/-**

***whispers* Oops 100,000 words how did this even get so long what even am I doing with my life?**


	106. Chapter 106

Edward doesn't find out Mary and Anne are imprisoned until it's almost too late to do anything about it. After the disaster at the Observatory, where Edward only just barely managed to avoid being captured himself (and only because Haytham and Connor turned up at the exact right moment), it took him ages to make his way to Tulum. It would probably have been easier to go somewhere else, but Edward knows it's where he needs to be. With Altair busy escaping Abstergo, the only assassins around are the ones from this century, and Edward finds himself with more and more questions all the time.

Maybe it's only natural. He's had both Altair and Desmond inside his head, the one for months now, the other for one slightly confusing day. He's seen the future through Ezio's eyes, and then there's every single moment he's spent with Haytham and Connor. He's heard their thoughts, seen the world from their point of view. It makes him think a little bit more about the assassin's creed he was so eager to dismiss when he first heard it.

When he finally reaches Tulum, though, he finds Ah Tabai on his way out, busily preparing to leave on a journey of his own. His face is grim, and he's clearly not in the mood for questions, so the only one Edward asks is, "What happened?"

Ah Tabai doesn't answer. Instead, he pauses and looks Edward over. "So," he says at last. "It seems you haven't been eaten by a demon after all."

"I-" this is such an uncharacteristic thing for the assassin to say that the only word Edward can force out is- "What?"

Ah Tabai beckons for Edward to follow him as he heads to the waterfront, where a ship is waiting. "Your legend has been growing," he says. "A few months ago I heard rumors that you could summon a wolf to fight at your side."

"A-" Oh, of course. Connor.

"And only a few days ago," Ah Tabai continues, "I spoke with a sailor who swore the wolf was actually a demon, and that instead of fighting for you, it devoured your soul and doomed you to an eternity of suffering at the hands of the devil."

"Oh," Edward says, and because the truth is that the wolf is actually his grandson, who hasn't been born yet, and who is sometimes a bear and sometimes an eagle and sometimes, on good days, a man… because of that, he says nothing else.

"Why are you here, Edward?" Ah Tabai asks.

"I have questions," says Edward. "And… an apology. When I first learned of your order, I made a lot of mistakes. But now-"

Ah Tabai holds up a hand. "Save your apologies," he says. "Actions speak louder than words, and-"

"And my actions haven't done me any favors, have they?" Edward interrupts.

"Well, no," Ah Tabai admits. "But I was going to say that you have a chance to show me that you have changed."

"You need a favor?" Edward asks.

"It's for Mary Read and Anne Bonny," Ah Tabai says. "They're being held captive in Kingston."

"And- I mean, I've known Mary for years, she's been in tighter places that _prison_. Why are we going in?"

"'We'," Ah Tabai repeats. "So you are coming with."

"Of course," Edward says. "But why-"

"Because a jailbreak is difficult when both the people trying to escape are pregnant."

"Pregnant," Edward repeats. "With- babies?"

"I had assumed you would be familiar with the concept," Ah Tabai says.

"Well, yea," Edward says. "I just… I'm trying to wrap my mind around the idea of Mary as somebody's mother."

Ah Tabai gives him a look that strongly suggests Edward shut his mouth, and- distracted by the news that the two women are both in prison and pregnant- actually does.

It's a trend that continues for most of the voyage to Kingston, and by the time they reach the prison, Edward's extremely worried about what they're going to find there. For all he knows, Mary and Anne could be dead already. Their execution dates are still a ways off, but there are lots of ways to die in prison other than a noose. And giving birth isn't easy even under the best of circumstances.

But what he finds, after sneaking into the prison, past what seems like an army of guards, is worse than anything he had imagined. In all his imaginings, he'd never pictured the women looking like this- thin, ill, and more or less helpless. Anne's about to go into labor, and Ah Tabai appears to lead her away, pausing only long enough to instruct Edward to follow him with Mary.

Which Edward fully intends to do, but it takes him longer than he would have liked to get her on her feet and moving. And as soon as they do, it hits him- Mary's not going to make it. She's panting and shaking just standing there, leaning on him, and Edward can tell, just by looking. She doesn't want to leave. Whatever happened here, whether it's the months of prison time or the loss of her child (Edward doesn't ask, but he can add two and two, and the baby isn't here)… Mary has no intention of leaving this place.

"Come on, Mary!" he says. "Don't give up on me now!"

"No, Edward…" She tries to push him away, but she has about as much strength as a kitten. "I'm not going to make it."

"You will," Edward says. "If you just try." He picks her up, and she weighs almost nothing. "You're getting out of this place if I have to carry you myself." She doesn't answer, so Edward goes on, filling the silence. "Don't leave me alone," he says. "Everyone I've ever trusted is dead, or gone. You're the only one I have left."

Mary tries to laugh, but it turns into a hacking cough that scares Edward more than a little. "What about your friends from the future?" she asks. "The ones you told me about?"

"Mary, those people are strange." His own attempt at laughter is hardly better than hers was. "I need you to help me deal with them."

"You'll do fine on your own," Mary says, and her eyes start to slide close. Edward can feel her slipping away, but before he has a chance to really panic, someone new comes running in, panting and covered in blood. For a second he stares at Edward, and Edward stares back. Even Mary opens her half closed eyes to see what's going on.

"Edward," says the new guy, and Edward squints at him, trying to place the voice.

"…Desmond?"

The man nods. "Yea... but, um..." he glances at Mary. "Altair sent me to get you back to 2013… Is this a bad time?"

"Kind of," Edward says. "I'm only trying to save her life."

"Oh." Desmond walks closer and reaches a hand out- then he pulls it back, wipes the blood from his hands. Edward glances past him and sees the dead bodies of half a dozen guards on the floor. He'd been careful to leave no trace on his way in, but standing here now with Mary in his arms, he's not sorry to see the bodies. Desmond holds out his hand, cleaner now, and presses it to Mary's forehead. "She's burning up," he says.

"I know."

"She's not going to make it," Desmond goes on. "She's sick and there's no medicine-"

"I know," Edward says. "But I have to try."

"Yea!" Desmond says. "I know, what I was going to say is that there's no medicine _in this century_."

Edward opens his mouth- closes it again. "You think there's stuff in the future that can help her?" he asks.

"I don't know," Desmond says. "But I think getting her out of this place is going to do more to help her than anything else we could possibly do."

"Okay," Edward says. "Do it. Please."


	107. Chapter 107

_The wolf has waited a long time for this, but it's good at waiting. Better than the man that shares its head, better than the eagle or the bear. It's good at waiting, and it's strong, and now it has the body all to itself._

_It's good, but the wolf has other concerns now. It's hungry, and tired of pacing the cramped room, and wary of the humans and their always present stench. The wolf should have left when it first woke up, and it doesn't know why it hasn't._

_But it's still here, following the one human that the wolf knows it can trust. There's no reason to trust the man, but the wolf doesn't leave his side. The others, though… even if something keeps telling him they're good, the wolf stays wary and tense around all of them. The friendly feelings are just strong enough to keep it from lashing out at any of them, but it still doesn't want them close._

_The wolf is asleep when someone settles onto the ground next to it, but the smell is familiar and it doesn't mind if this human is here. It doesn't even mind when the man starts to speak, because the words don't mean anything to it anyway._

"Hello. Connor. Ah-" _The human coughs and goes on. _"I mean, if there's anything left of you in there. I'm not sure anymore, but I'm going to explain what we're about to do, just in case. It's hard, though, because… I'm not good at admitting I was wrong. And I made a huge mistake when I let you keep drinking the tea. I should have stopped you, but I thought finding Washington's apple was important enough to risk it."

_The wolf opens its eyes and finds the human staring straight at it, still speaking. _"I was wrong. You're my son, and my first priority should have been to protect you. It's too late to go back and fix the mistakes I made, but I'm going to make it up to you now." _He strokes the wolf absentmindedly behind the ears, and it leans into the touch slightly. _"I'm going into your mind. Hopefully I'll find you there, and if I do, I swear I'll bring you back out."

"Are you ready, Haytham?" _It's a new voice, and the wolf tenses, growls a little, but doesn't make a move._

"Yes."

_And suddenly the room is full of golden light that smells like death and makes the wolf's fur stand on end. It jumps to up, but almost instantly sways as something stirs at the back of it's mind, and-_

It blacks out.

In the darkness of his own mind, Connor takes a deep breath and lets it out shakily. For the first time in he doesn't know how long, the wolf is down and he has room to breathe. He sees nothing, hears nothing, feels nothing. He's not in a real place and he knows it- it's just a construct of his mind, a hiding place slowly being eroded as the wolf's control grows stronger.

He's going to die soon, and he knows it. This slow erasure isn't the way he wanted to go. Not that he's thought about his own death much. It's always seemed too distant to worry about, but Connor's sort of had the idea that he'd go out in a blaze of glory, fighting for a cause.

Looks like that's not going to happen.

In any other circumstance, Connor would have stood strong and stayed stoic. But this horrible, quiet death is no one's fault but his own, and there's no one around to see as he buries his face in his hands.

"Giving up already?"

"Dad?" Connor jumps to his feet, hardly daring to believe his own ears. The blackness is still impenetrable, but he _knows _what he heard. "What are you doing here?"

"Well-" something bumps against him and Connor feels a hand on his shoulder. It's something solid in the darkness and he can't pretend it doesn't come with a sense of relief. "The others are getting a little concerned about the wolf in the apartment that keeps growling at them. So I said I'd come get you out."

Haytham's tone is light, but that's what tells Connor something is wrong. He's never that upbeat in the middle of a crisis. "I'm sorry," Connor says. "You told me the tea was a bad idea the first time you heard about it but I kept using it, and now-"

"Connor!" Haytham says, and suddenly Connor can feel the hand on his shoulder pulling him closer, and another on the back of his head. When Haytham speaks again, his voice is a lot quieter, but a lot closer, too. Connor still can't see him, but they're so close he can picture Haytham standing right there, and it's a relief to know there's something solid in the world. "It's my fault too. I could have stopped you."

"Yea, right," Connor says.

"Really?" Haytham sighs. "We're arguing this now? Look, I came to get you out and that's what I'm going to do. As long as you make me a promise."

"What?"

"No more powers," Haytham says. "Not ever. No more wolf, or eagle, or bear. I'm going to drag you back into control, but they're all going to be waiting there, for the rest of your life, hoping you'll give them a chance to take over. Promise me that you'll never give them that chance."

"I swear," Connor says. "I promise."

It's like the words have some kind of power- instantly, the world starts to shake, and a golden light, the apple's light, is shining from everywhere and nowhere. Connor can see Haytham now, staring at him with a fierce protectiveness that he never expected to see from his father. And maybe that's what does it- in the safety of his own mind, Connor lets go and for the first time in decades, allows himself to cry. Haytham folds him into a hug that's somehow both awkward and real. "Thank you," Connor whispers, and hugs back. He doesn't let go for a long time, not even when the return of normal sound and natural light tells him he's back in the real world.

After a while, Haytham takes a half step back. "Are you alright?" he asks, and Connor nods.

After that, everyone else crowds around him, ready to welcome him back (or make snarky comments, in Shaun's case: "Well at least we won't have to worry about the shedding now"). It's a little overwhelming to have them all pressing in around him, even with Desmond gone, apparently to get Edward. After a few seconds, Connor breaks away from the crowd to talk to Ezio.

"Hey," he says. "Take my apple." The words come out all in a rush, because Connor knows he needs to do this now. The tea got harder to control after he had Washington's apple. He promised Haytham that he's going to stay in control from now on, and that's going to be easier without the apple.

"What?"

"It's hurting me, and it would help you," Connor says. He's already drawing the apple out of himself, the same way he saw Ezio do it in Abstergo when he gave Desmond's apple back to him. "You need it to understand everyone, right?"

"Yes," Ezio says, "But-"

It's too late. Before he can even get the argument out, Connor's balancing the golden sphere in his palm, arm held as far away from his body as he can manage. "Here." Ezio holds his hands out and Connor drops the apple into it. "It's yours now."

The whole room watches as the apple shimmers and vanishes like a mirage, and golden lines start to work their way up Ezio's arms and onto the rest of his body. Ezio curls his hands into fists, watching as the lines slowly fade. "Thanks," he says, testing the word out, deliberately enunciating the English word. Then, with more confidence- "It's good to have you back."

So they're all standing there, five assassins (and one templar), a brotherhood, when there's a sudden flash of golden light and a group of people, two men supporting a woman, fall into the twenty first century.

"Desmond?" Rebecca gasps.

"Edward-" Altair starts.

"We need a doctor," Edward says, his voice thick with emotion. "Or medicine, or something. Now!"

And that's one good thing about this group, Connor decides as they all move into action. Everything is crazy all of the time, and he's seen more impossible things in his lifetime than anyone should have to experience. But on the other hand, less than an hour ago he was trapped in his own mind while a wolf controlled his body. Now he's yesterday's news.

There's always some new crises.


	108. Chapter 108

Ezio's well used to the feel of a building full of assassins the night before a big mission, and the one they're planning to run against Juno is the biggest he's ever heard of. It's been a week since Connor went back to being human and Desmond brought Edward and Mary into the twenty first century. And that pre-mission feeling- that slow, creeping increase in tension, the silence that fills the apartment like a physical presence, it's getting stronger every day.

They don't have much of a plan, because none of the people involved are particularly good at following plans, and anyway they have no idea how hard it will be to take Juno down. All they know is where she is- or at least, where Altair saw her when John tried to kill him. For all any of them know, she could be somewhere else by now. They're going to have to play it by ear, and that has Ezio nervous. Maybe that's why he spends the night before the mission wandering the overcrowded apartment, not really able to settle for anything.

The first place he goes is the tiny living area off the kitchen, normally used for when one of them gets restless and needs a place to do sit ups or stretches or something else to work off excess energy in an enclosed space. With the apartment's current state of overcrowding (two bedrooms, eight assassins, and one templar), Haytham and Connor are taking turns sleeping on the couch when they need a rest. They're there now, actually- when Ezio walks over, Haytham's prodding Connor about how he feels.

"I told you," Connor says. "I'm fine."

"We're going after Juno tomorrow," Haytham presses. "I just want to know if anything's wrong-"

"Dad!" Connor's voice is exasperated, and for a second- putting aside the fact that they're talking about whether or not Connor's likely to turn into a werewolf during the mission, they could almost be a normal father and son.

Haytham looks up and notices Ezio. "Did you need something?" he snaps.

"Nope." Ezio grins and turns to leave. "Go back to your argument."

After that he checks out the smaller bedroom- usually, both of the bedrooms are used by whoever needs a bed, whenever they happen to be empty, but right now this one's been converted into a temporary infirmary while Mary builds her strength back up. As the only other woman in the group, Rebecca's been staying there too, and Edward- who clearly feels responsible for Mary, despite her constant protests- rarely leaves the room.

They're in the middle of a conversation when Ezio sticks his head in, so intensely focused on one another that neither of them even notices him. For a second, their postures and tones seem to imply that the two are sharing a moment, but their words have nothing to do with romance.

"You can't go back, Mary," Edward's saying. They're both sitting cross legged on the bed, so close they're almost touching. Almost, but not quite. "I've been talking to people- well, mostly Shaun, actually. He's kind of a prick but he's a good historian."

"I know," Mary says. "I've been talking to him too. And I know what you're going to say."

"You were supposed to die in that prison," Edward says quietly. "That's what history says, and if you go back, you could change _everything_."

"I know," Mary says. She doesn't sound upset at all, Ezio thinks, but then again he hasn't known her all that long. Edward, who's known her for years, frowns at her words. Maybe she's just hiding it well.

"It might not beall bad," he says.

"Edward-" Mary lets out an aggravated sigh. "It's different for me to be here than it is for you. You said you've been… what, sharing heads with these people?" she pauses long enough for Edward to nod, then continues. "You have this knowledge of what's going on here and how things work and I don't have that- Edward, I don't understand any of what's going on here." Her voice breaks right at the end, and Ezio leaves quietly as Edward struggles to find the words to comfort her.

A burst of laughter from the kitchen behind him, completely at odds with the almost somber mood in the bedroom, makes Ezio turn around. Desmond, Shaun, and Rebecca are gathered around the kitchen table, an open and half empty bottle of something between them. Desmond and Rebecca are the ones laughing- Rebecca's nearly doubled over and gasping for breath- while Shaun wears an affronted look that tells Ezio he's the butt of the joke.

It's the first time he's ever seen the three of them this comfortable around one another- since Desmond came back, the other two have been careful to keep him at arm's length, like they're not quite sure what to make of him. But to be fair, most of the time Desmond hardly seems to know what to make of himself. And even before that, when they were moving around from hideout to hideout, Desmond was keeping the huge secret of his ancestors' existence in his head a secret. Even if they didn't know the specifics, they knew he was keeping something from them, and that's the kind of thing that gets in the way of friendships.

But tonight at least they seem completely relaxed. Maybe it's the threat of impending death from Juno and knowing they could all be dead this time tomorrow, or maybe it's just the cheap alcohol, or maybe they really have managed to put all of it- the lies, the amnesia, everything- behind them. Whatever the reason, it's good to see, and Ezio doesn't interrupt them, either.

That leaves only Altair unaccounted for, and Ezio spares a second to check the other bedroom- the one he, Altair, Desmond, and Shaun have been temporarily crowded into- just to confirm it's empty before leaving the apartment and heading to the roof.

And that, of course, is where he finds Altair, sitting with his legs over the side of the roof, arms crossed over his chest, eyes focused on something in the distance that only he can see. He looks like he's in another world, but when Ezio sits down next to him, Altair stirs and turns to frown at him. "How is everything inside?" he asks.

"Tense, mostly," Ezio says, and shrugs. "Better than I expected, honestly."

"Good," Altair says, and then falls back into silence. Ezio waits for a second to see if he'll say anything else. He doesn't.

"How do you feel about tomorrow?" he asks.

"Fine."

"Because, you know, this is going to be dangerous, and difficult and… and bigger than anything we've faced before."

"Are you saying I can't handle it?" Altair snaps. Ezio ignores the tone though, because he knows what it means; Altair's putting up walls, pretending he's not as afraid as he really is. Ezio, not for the first time, is reminded that even if Altair was born and lived and died centuries before him, Ezio is still more than twenty years his senior.

"Not at all," he says, and clasps the man on the shoulder. "I'm saying I think this is going to be the hardest battle any of us have ever fought. And-" he doesn't realize it until he hears the words come out of his mouth, but that doesn't make them any less true. "I think we're going to win."

**-/-**

**I would like to apologize in advance if updates get a little slower for a while; I got bit hard by a plot bunny this morning and I need to work on that for a bit before I can focus on this again. Hopefully not long, because this story is _so _close to wrapping up, and personally I can't wait to get there.**


	109. Chapter 109

In the end, Mary stays behind at the apartment, despite her own arguments that she feels well enough to come with. It's fairly obvious that she's not, and in fact Haytham's not even sure she's well enough to be arguing- she yells with the same amount of energy other people use to fight. Edward assures him the arguing will probably help her more than it hurts her, so Haytham lets it go.

Shaun and Rebecca stay behind as well, because their talents are more suited to coordinating the mission than actual combat. Other than those three, however, everyone will be going into Abstergo. And that includes both Connor and Desmond- Haytham's not sure that either of them is ready for field work, but he can't argue that they need people.

On the other hand, Connor was literally a wild animal a week ago, and Haytham isn't really convinced he'll be able keep it together if anything goes wrong. As for Desmond, while he's clearly retained his physical skills from before he died, his mind is a little less reliable.

"Haytham," Altair says quietly. He has to be quiet, because it's the middle of the night and they're standing on the roof of the building across the street from Abstergo. "Are you with us?"

The other five are all looking at him expectantly; Altair's been giving an overview of the place's security, but Haytham hasn't really bothered to pay attention. It's not his first time breaking into the building, and he can't keep his mind from wandering. "Yes," he says, trying to pretend that he's been listening the whole time.

Altair gives him a look that says he definitely doesn't believe him, then shakes his head and pulls something out of his pocket. "This is how we're going to kill Juno," he says.

"A USB drive?" Desmond asks. "How is that going to help?"

"I thought we didn't have a plan," Connor adds.

"It's a very last minute plan," Altair admits. "I've been talking to Shaun and Rebecca, and based on what I saw at Abstergo, and knowing that John was good with technology, Juno's probably inside the Abstergo computer network."

"She's- what?" Edward asks.

"She's not technically here," Altair explains. "She doesn't have a body, so we can't just kill her. But this-" he holds up the USB- "has… what is it, Rebecca?"

They're all wearing earbuds connected to each other, and to Rebecca and Shaun back at the apartment, so Haytham hears her voice right in his ear. "Basically it's a virus," she says. "If you stick that in whatever computer Juno's hiding out in, it'll take the computer out. And her. Probably."

"Probably," Shaun mutters.

"Almost definitely," Rebecca corrects.

"I don't like this," Ezio says. "I don't trust computers."

"But it's all we have right now," says Altair. "So we're going to split into pairs and go looking for her."

"I thought you said you saw her," Edward says. "Don't you already know where she is?"

"And she saw me," says Altair. "She will have moved by now. All the computers in the building are connected, so she could be in any of them."

"What about other computers?" Connor asks. "There have to be millions of them."

"Abstergo's really paranoid about their data," Rebecca says. "It's pretty much impossible to get any data in or out without physically carrying it out, like with everything Altair got for John."

"Alright," Altair says quickly. "We don't have all night. I'll go with Desmond, Ezio, you're with Edward, and Connor, Haytham- you're together."

They nod or make noises of assent, and split into their pairs. Haytham hasn't taken more than a step or two when Altair puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "What's wrong?" Haytham asks.

"Nothing." Altair looks unusually serious, even for him. "Just keep an eye on Connor."

"What do you think I've been doing?" Haytham asks. He shakes Altair away and leaves him behind.

He and Connor get inside Abstergo without any trouble and start their search. It's difficult, slow work, and Haytham's frustrated at the haphazard nature of their task. Most of the six of them have spent enough time in the twenty first century to know, more or less, how to work a computer. Or at the very least they've been inside the heads of people that know better than they do. Still, Juno is different from anything else they've seen before, and Haytham can tell by the occasional terse comments coming through his earbud that he's not the only one feeling frustrated. For a while, these complaints are the only indication of how the other four are doing. Then Rebecca says, "Oh _no_."

"What's the matter?" Haytham and Altair demand in almost perfect unison, while Edward bursts into a string of extremely creative oaths.

"Someone-"

"I'm going to go out on a limb and guess it's Edward," Shaun interrupts, and the cursing intensifies slightly.

"Set off an alarm," Rebecca continues. "I just intercepted a call to the police. I stopped it before the message went through, but I think their internal security knows you're there now."

We'll manage," Connor says, and perfectly on cue, a group of five Abstergo guards burst into the room the two Kenways are searching.

"There!" One of them yells, and raises a radio to call for backup.

"No," Connor grunts, and runs across the room to bury his blade in the man's throat before he can get so much as a word out. Haytham follows only half a step behind, but he can't quite keep his attention completely on the fight. He's still nervous about Connor, not completely trusting him to stay human, and keeps one eye firmly fixed on him. To Haytham's relief, though, Connor shows absolutely no sign of shifting into animal form. And while he does seem a little less confident than usual- he stumbles a few times, and he hesitates more than what Haytham's used to seeing- but at least he's still human. It's good to see-

Haytham hears the gunshot at the same second he feels the bullet rip through his lower stomach.

"Dad!" Connor yells, but his voice sounds quiet and distant. Haytham half stumbles, just barely managing to catch himself on a table. One of the guards- the only one of the five left alive- has managed to get behind him and pull a gun. Connor leaps at him, shouting in anger, but Haytham's vision has already blurred too badly to see what happens next.

His last thought before everything goes dark and cold is that he should never have lost track of that last man. It's a basic mistake, a stupid mistake, one he wouldn't have made if he hadn't been so distracted by Connor, and one he'll be kicking himself over for the rest of his life.

But at least it doesn't look like that's going to be a very long time away.

**-/-**

**Uggggh. It was so hard to write this chapter. You may have noticed I've spent the past 109 chapters avoiding as many fight scenes as possible, and all of a sudden there's this final battle thing that I'm pretty sure I'm making a mess of. And the next chapter's going to be just as difficult...**

**I say again, uggggh.**

**Oh, and also- bye Haytham. Nice knowing you. :(**


	110. Chapter 110

Desmond and Altair listen in silence to the battle playing out somewhere above them. They're all the way down in the basement where Altair first saw Juno, and it's obvious that any help they could give would come too late. So all they can do is listen as Haytham is shot.

Altair curses quietly, and then speaks for the first time. "Connor," he says. "Tell me what's going on."

There's no answer for a long time, and when Connor finally answers, his voice is strained and raw. Desmond can't help but flinch, because he's only heard that tone once- when Connor and Haytham first came back to the 21st century, right before Connor lost control and ended up as a wolf. "He's not doing well," he says. "He needs to get out of here, now."

"Is he-" Edward's voice comes through, distorted by the technology and some unexpected emotion. "Is he going to make it?"

"Maybe." Connor growls in frustration. "I'm not a doctor."

"Then take him home," Altair says. "The rest of us will finish up here."

"Do you want me to come with?" Edward asks. "You sound… not good."

"I don't feel good," Connor admits. "But this is important-"

"I'll go," Ezio says. "Edward, you stay."

"But-"

"You're getting too upset," Ezio says quietly, and Desmond shakes his head. Being a Kenway seems very confusing, emotionally. "Don't worry. It'll be fine. Just go meet up with Altair and Desmond, I'll let you know when we're out."

So that's how Connor and Ezio end up on their way out of the building with a badly injured Haytham, while Desmond continues the search with Altair and Edward. The alarms are still going off all over the building, but none of the guards seem inclined to come down here. Of course, most of the doors they pass are level three security, and Desmond doubts the guards have clearance that high. Probably all the security down here is run off cameras and technology, not human beings.

Finally they get to a huge, empty room, and Altair stops in the doorway. "This is where I saw her the first time," he says.

"Why would she still be here?" Desmond asks.

"I don't think she would be," says Altair. "But we might as well…" he trails off as the lights flicker on and off around them. "Or on the other hand, she could just be waiting for us."

"I don't like the sound of that," Edward admits.

"Neither do I," says Altair, and moves forward. Desmond and Edward glance at one another and then hurry after him.

The only sound as they walk is their footsteps, and these are quiet and almost inaudible. Desmond keeps glancing over his shoulder; there's a weird feeling to the room that he can't quite put a name to but definitely doesn't like. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end, and he can almost feel an invisible pair of eyes on him.

"You came back," a voice says abruptly. It's a cold, female voice and at the sound of it, Desmond feels his stomach clench with nerves. He can't actually remember the day Juno killed him, but it's clear that some part of his body does, and it wants to _get away from her_. "And you brought friends."

She's standing between the three of them and the only computer in the room that Desmond can see, transparent and ghostly and lit with a golden glow that's almost but not quite the same as the light from the apple.

"That's her?" Edward asks. "Juno?"

Altair nods, and Juno gives him the same look most people would save for particularly annoying bugs. Maybe a mosquito or a gnat. "You have no business here," she says. "And you bore me."

"Hey!"

"Ignore her," Altair says, and after a few more grumbled complaints, Edward falls silent.

Desmond shifts uncomfortably as Juno turns her eyes on him. Altair's saying something, but he barely hears the words. Every cell in his body is screaming at him to run, and it's only through a supreme effort of will that he stops himself from bolting. He can't stop the apple from responding to his panic, though, Without any conscious effort on his part, the by now familiar golden lines burst into being all over his skin, drawing themselves onto his body in a process that should be painful but somehow feels almost comforting.

"They brought you back," Juno says, ignoring Altair. "But they brought you back wrong."

"I'm fine," Desmond mutters.

"They brought you back broken," Juno says. "You forget that my people were the ones that invented the apple. I know what you've been through." As she says this, she steps very close to Desmond. "The darkness. How long were you dead? How long did they leave you there?"

"Shut up," Desmond says, but it's halfhearted; at her words, he can feel the memory of the darkness rushing up to swallow him. "You killed me. It's your fault."

"I guess it is,' Juno says, and she's still smiling. "I bet you'd like revenge, wouldn't you? You'd like to kill me. That's what you all came here for, after all. But I promise you, whatever plan you have, it's not going to work."

"We'll find a way," Altair says, but Juno barely spares him a glance.

"You have a pretty good mastery of the apple, don't you Desmond?" Juno asks. The way she says his name sends chills up his spine. "I mean, you'd have to. How long did you live with your mind joined to one? Too long, I'm sure. But it's not all bad news." And she takes another step forward and whispers, "The only thing that can kill me the way I am now is the apple, and you're the only one with the mastery to wield it like that."

Desmond curls his hands into fists, and feels the apple's power surge within him. At that moment he wants nothing more than to let the power go, kill Juno, just make her _go away_.

She laughs. "But of course, you're only human." She steps back, her tone suddenly dismissive. "You're too weak to survive the process. Mentally, I mean. Physically you'd be fine, but you would spend the rest of your life in that darkness."

He remembers the emptiness, the loneliness, the hopelessness of knowing that the entire world is nothing but darkness. He remembers being so lost in the pain and the loss that he couldn't even hold onto his own name. He remembers all this, and feels the terror rise higher within him.

"And that's why I'll always be safe," Juno says. "I know you'll never be able to face that again. You will never have the strength to kill me."

"Don't listen," Altair says. "She's never told us the truth."

"I-" Desmond shakes his head. He can't bear to face the darkness again, but even more than that, he can't stand the thought of living in a world that still has her in it. "You're wrong."

And the apple's light explodes out of him, a wall of pure, raw power so primal and uncontrollable it physically hurts. Desmond opens his mouth to scream as the darkness comes rushing up to claim him.

**-/-**

**As the number of essays I have to do before the end of the semester increases, the amount of chapters I end with killing/almost killing characters also increases. Honestly it's lucky this story is going to be done before finals start, or it would probably end in a massacre.**


	111. Chapter 111

Under any other circumstances, Altair would have enjoyed the look of disbelief on Juno's face as she's overwhelmed by the apple's golden light. He would have been relieved to see her gone, and would have enjoyed knowing it was her own overconfidence that told them how to kill her.

But he barely even notices, because the only thing he sees as the light fades is Desmond. He's lying twenty feet from where he'd been a minute ago, blown back from the force of… whatever he did with the apple. There's no sign of Juno, but that's the only good news.

Altair runs for him, Edward hot on his heels, and drops to his knees next to Desmond. He's still breathing, but only just, and when Altair checks for a pulse it feels weak and thready under his fingers. Desmond flinches away from the touch and curls himself into a tight ball. He doesn't move again.

"What's wrong with him?" Edward asks. He's looking at Desmond's eyes, which are wide open but staring at nothing.

"I don't know." Altair slams his fist into the ground. "That's what I hate about the apples! They make no sense at all!"

"Juno's gone, though," Edward says.

"Yea," says Altair. "So's Desmond."

"What?" Edward's been standing throughout the conversation, looking down at Desmond and Altair, but now he crouches down as well. "You're giving up?"

"Giving up?" Altair demands. "What are you talking about, 'giving up'? There's no other choice here. Maybe, if we're lucky, we might get some part of him back someday. But miracles don't happen twice, and Desmond got his. I-"

He doesn't see the punch coming until Edward's fist is in his face. "Yea," Edward says. "Maybe you're right, and maybe Desmond's all out of miracles. But he's still got us, okay? And I've spent a lot of time with you in my head and I _know_ you're not going to give up until you get Desmond back."

"You don't know that," Altair says. He can't deal with Edward lecturing him right now, not after taking down Juno and losing Desmond. He's emotionally wrung out, and he just can't keep going anymore. "You can't, so don't tell me-"

"I know you're not because Desmond knows you're not," Edward says. "He survived ten months without a body. You and I both know he's fighting right now, and he's waiting for you."

For a full minute, Altair seriously considers punching Edward. His own nose is bleeding from Edward's hit, and he's not sure Edward's faith is well placed. But Edward doesn't so much as blink, and that's what eventually convinces him. "Fine," Altair says. "I don't know what good it will do, but at least we can…" he sighs, waves a hand vaguely. "Find out what's going on in there."

"Good," Edward says. "Because losing a friend when you know there's something you could have done is- it's just stupid." He looks away, and Altair can't help remembering his time in the animus, seeing all the people in Edward's life dying or leaving, one by one.

"Ezio," he says. "Did you hear all that?"

"Yes." Ezio's voice comes over the earpiece instantly. "What are you thinking?"

"I have an apple," Altair says. "You have an apple. I don't think either of us can bring him back, but we can at least get inside his mind."

"I'm going too," Edward adds.

"Fine," Altair says. "I can bring you along."

"And you're not leaving us behind," Haytham adds over the earpiece, and Altair guesses he means himself and Connor.

"You're alive?" Edward asks.

"And likely to stay that way," Haytham says.

"Yea, you're welcome," Shaun adds, reminding Altair that he and Rebecca are still on the line. "I'm not a doctor, you know. You're just lucky this apartment has a decent internet connection. I'm telling you, google is a miracle worker-"

"I'm going to stop you before you try to make me feel better again," Haytham says.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Altair asks.

"I am more than ready to be out of this body for a while," Haytham says.

"Connor?" Altair asks. "You've been quiet."

"Of course I'm coming," Connor says. "I thought it was a given."

"How human are you today?" Altair asks. He knows it sounds blunt, but he doesn't have time for subtlety.

"Human enough," Connor says, and he does sound a lot more in control than he did before.

"Alright then," Altair says. "Ezio, can you bring the two of them in?"

"Yes," Ezio says, but Altair can hear the faint note of hesitation in his voice. The last time Ezio had an apple it was the Desmond-apple, and he never had much luck getting it to do much of anything. Then again, the apples seem to have a good sense of dramatic timing. They always come through when they're needed. And Altair has confidence that Ezio will figure it out.

"Good," Altair says. "See you on the inside."

He pulls the earbud out- he doesn't need the distraction- and grabs Edward's hand.

"Um…"

"This isn't going to be easy," Altair says. "Either we hold hands or you're not going in with me."

Edward grumbles but doesn't pull away, and after a minute or two of concentrated effort, he feels the warm golden light of the apple spill out of him, feels his mind leave his body, pulling Edward behind him like a dog on a leash, and then- he feels it.

Darkness. Cold, clutching, clawing darkness that reaches for him with icy fingers and grabs hold of his mind, tearing it apart until there's nothing left. He feels himself start to drift, feels his mind pulling itself to pieces. Dimly, he senses more than sees five other minds falling apart, giving in to the darkness because there is no way to fight this, no weapons that will hurt it, no point in trying to stay whole or sane or alive-

_"No."_

He's not sure where the voice comes from, or if it's even a voice at all. It bursts into his mind in a flare of golden light, not really a voice at all. It's a certainty that he will not give up, no matter what happens, no matter how bad things get. He never has, not even when things looked darkest, not when he found out Al Mualim was a traitor, and killed him-

_-when his father and brothers were hanged in front of him-_

-when he carried Mary out of prison, convinced she was going to die and leave him alone, again-

_-when the only option he had left was to kill his son before he himself was killed-_

-when his own stupidity turned him into an animal-

_-when he thought he was going to die alone and unmissed in an Abstergo cell-_

He didn't give up then, and he won't give up now. He draws the scattered pieces of himself together, fighting the darkness through sheer force of will. This is a fight unlike any he's ever fought before. Six lifetimes of training don't mean anything now, but it doesn't matter. He is all of them at once, and it's strange and terrifying and empowering all at once. He has all their memories, all their knowledge, all their knowledge.

He remembers what Clay said in the animus, a lifetime ago, or many lifetimes. He'd told Desmond, _"There is no difference between you and your ancestors." _That's never been as obvious as it is now. Six minds wrapped so tightly together that there is no line between them, no place where one ends and another begins. Six people joined into one, and that one is telling the darkness-

_"No."_

Light floods out of him, driving the darkness back, shredding it, destroying it completely until all that remains is the light- golden, warm, and shining. And when the darkness is gone-

Desmond wakes up on a floor that feels cold and icy under him, and struggles to his feet, fighting muscles that have seized up while he was lost in the darkness. He's still reeling from the sudden loss of the feeling of connectedness to the others that he felt just a second ago. He's never been that close to anyone before, and he knows he never will again.

But the darkness is gone. Juno is gone. And he is…

In Altair's body. "Whoops," he mutters, but at this point it doesn't much matter. They've been here before, they can figure out how to fix it later. His mind feels whole in a way that it hasn't for _months_, and he has to steady himself as a flood of memories come flooding back into his mind. Twenty five years of his life, years he thought were eaten by the darkness, gone forever- but then again, the darkness is gone.

Someone groans nearby, and Desmond watches his body get unsteadily to its feet. "Altair?" he guesses.

"Uh-" whoever's in his body blinks, rubs at his face. "Edward. Who are..?"

"Desmond," he says, and that means Altair must be in Edward's body- sure enough, when Desmond looks around, he sees the blonde a few feet away, already apparently adjusted to the transfer.

"How do you feel?" Altair asks. His serious tone sounds out of place coming out of Edward's mouth. "You haven't lost any more memories, have you?"

"No," Desmond says. "But I got the old ones back."

There's something to be said for muscle memory, and maybe it's just Edward's exceptionally expressive face that makes Altair's smile look so wide. Desmond decides to pretend his ancestor's just happy to hear he's back.

Altair and Edward suddenly wince in unison, and when Desmond gives them a 'what are you doing?' look, Edward points to his earbud, and Altair tosses him the one lying abandoned on the floor. As soon as he sticks it in his ear, Desmond's treated to a cacophony of voices all talking at once.

"Hey!" Altair says, and there's enough command in his voice that everyone falls silent. "Alright, that's better. Is everyone alright over there?"

"Edward?" Connor asks.

"We came back switched," Altair says.

"We're fine," Ezio says. "Everyone's in one piece and the right bodies."

"Unfortunately," Haytham adds.

"If you were paying attention, you wouldn't have gotten shot," Connor points out.

"I was watching you!" Haytham says, but there's little if any anger in his voice.

Connor half laughs. "I can take care of myself-"

Altair pulls his earbud out, and the other two follow his example. "Doesn't sound like we're missing anything important," Altair says. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

So out they go. Security is still searching the upper floors, so there's nothing to stop the trio from just walking out the front doors. Outside, the first few employees pass them on their way into the building. They're almost out of sight when a woman- from Altair's memories, Desmond knows her name is Melanie Lemay, and that she's in charge of the Sample 17 project.

She stops when she sees Desmond- or, technically, Altair's body- and then her jaw drops as she sees the other two. Edward laughs, and Desmond can't really blame him. From her point of view, she's just run into one of her employees, the (dead) guy who 'donated' his DNA to make her project work, and the three hundred year old pirate she's been studying.

"I-" her mouth works, but nothing else comes out.

"Trust me," Altair says. "You don't want to know."

They leave her there, still trying to figure out what she just saw. Not that she'll ever figure it out, of course. Not in a million years.


	112. Epilogue 1: Kenways

The next month goes by too quickly. It's one of the best of Haytham's life, even with the bullet wound. It turns out that the twenty first century has some pretty decent pain killers, and this is the first time since he was ten years old that Haytham feels really safe. And why shouldn't he? His whole family is around him, not just Edward and Connor, but Desmond and Altair and Ezio, too. Even Shaun and Rebecca and Mary are more family than Haytham's used to.

They spend the time laying low in the apartment, because Abstergo is very interested to know who broke into their building, killed five security guards, blew up one computer in the basement, and then left. Melanie apparently never mentioned seeing anyone on her way in that morning, possibly because she couldn't believe her own eyes, and since John was the one with control over the security cameras, they never find any other leads.

So the day finally comes when the nine of them are safe, when Haytham and Mary are healed enough to lead the apartment, and Altair announces that it's time they all go home. Rebecca and Shaun are out somewhere, so only the seven time travelers are around to hear the announcement.

It probably shouldn't come as a surprise, and Haytham isn't exactly shocked. He is a little disappointed, though. After everything they've been through- together- he doesn't much want to just drop back into his old life like nothing's happened. He's not even sure he can.

"You three should probably leave first," Altair goes on, indicating the three Kenways. "You're the ones without apples, so we'll need to drop you off."

The room stays awkwardly silent for several more seconds, then Edward asks, "Do we really have to go?"

"Well, if you don't go back to the past, Haytham's never going to be born," says Altair. "And that means Connor will never be born, and that means Desmond will never be born-"

"Alright, I get it." Edward makes a face. "Doesn't mean I'm happy about it."

"Thanks," Haytham says dryly, and Edward gives him a suddenly thoughtful look. "What?"

"I'm just trying to picture you as an infant," Edward says, and tilts his head sideways. "It's not easy."

"Just wait a few years and you'll see it for yourself," Haytham says.

"Fair enough," says Edward. He walks across the room and gives Haytham a handshake that quickly turns into a hug. Not something Haytham would usually be alright with, but then again, this could be the last time he ever sees his father alive. "I'm looking forward to getting to know you the right way around."

Then he steps away, and Haytham watches as Altair takes hold of his arm. A moment later the two of them vanish as Altair takes Edward back to the eighteenth century. That just leaves Haytham and Connor.

Connor glances over at his father. "What are you going to do when we get back?" he asks, and Haytham hears the question he doesn't say out loud- _Are you going back to the templars?_

"I'm not sure yet," Haytham says, which is true. He's been with the templars since he was ten years old, but staying with them now would mean that all the people he's come to trust and even like will go back to being his enemies. His father. His son. "But I'll need to keep an eye on you, obviously."

Connor snorts, but it's been less than two months since he went back to being human, and Haytham knows he's terrified of losing it again. "What about you?" he asks. "You're the one with the bullet wound."

"I-"

"Hey!" Mary interrupts. "I think I'm going to be the one watching both of you."

"Wait, what?" Desmond asks. "I thought you agreed to stay here?"

"I agreed that I can't go back to my time," says Mary. "But this is too far in the future for me. I can't do three hundred years, but I think I can manage a few decades." Haytham sees Connor open his mouth to argue, but Mary doesn't give him the chance. "Besides, you two are a disaster waiting to happen."

Haytham doesn't argue. He knows Mary isn't as comfortable in this century as the rest of them are, and besides, it's worth it just to see Connor's face go red. Although actually, Haytham can't remember ever seeing Connor blush like that before…

"Come on," Desmond says. "You ready to go?"

Connor nods, and Mary says, "Yes." Haytham only smiles- he's fairly sure that between the three of them, they should be able to generate enough chaos to keep them busy. For a while, at least.


	113. Epilogue 2: Ezio

The apartment is a lot emptier when Edward, Haytham, Connor, and Mary are all gone. It's sort of strange, because Edward and Mary have barely been there a month, and both Haytham and Connor were gone for a long time, stuck in another universe. But just knowing that they won't be coming back yet- that they'll never come back- makes this emptiness different.

And Ezio knows without having to ask that he'll be leaving next.

He stands in the middle of the apartment's main room with Altair and Desmond, not one of them looking at the others. Finally, because he's never been good with silence, Ezio speaks. "So I guess this is goodbye," he says.

"Sorry," says Desmond.

Ezio waves the word away. "Don't apologize," he says. "I'm more than ready to go home." Home- where Sophia waits to make a life and build a family with him, where he can finally settle down for a long overdue and well earned rest. "Besides. We've done some incredible things. Might as well end on a high note."

There's a hint of triumph on Desmond's face as he nods, and Ezio knows it's there because he's able to remember those times at all- after months of being trapped in the apple or without his memories, a few weeks haven't been enough for him to get over the novelty. Ezio smiles- it wouldn't have felt right going back with Desmond still missing most of his mind.

"Are you ready?" Altair asks, and Ezio nods- then abruptly shakes his head.

"I have to say something first," he says, and takes a deep breath. "The first time I met you two, I was a dumb kid in over his head."

"The first time you met me was when you were a crying baby," Desmond points out.

"Yes," Ezio says. "Exactly. You saved my life on the day I was born. And Altair-" he turns to the other assassin. "You were my hero when I first joined the assassins. But now I'm old, and both of you have decades left." He's pushing sixty, and they're still in their twenties. It's a weird position to be in, but Ezio doesn't let himself dwell on it. "That means I get to give advice."

"Fine," Altair says, just a hint of a smile on his face. "What's your advice?"

"When I was young-" And wasn't _that _a long time ago? "Your influence over the assassins was everywhere I looked. I spent years tracking down every page of your codex. I heard countless stories of your life. There was a statue of you in Monteriggioni-"

"I hate that statue," Altair grumbles, and Desmond laughs.

"My point," Ezio goes on, "Is that I always knew you were a great assassin. But now, I know that you're a good man, too. So- I know you have a lot left to do in your life, and maybe it's overwhelming." He can tell by the way Altair carefully and abruptly banishes all trace of emotion from his face that he's been worrying about exactly that. "But if anyone can do all that, I know it's you."

Altair nods, and allows a barely perceptible ghost of a smile onto his face. Ezio turns to the other assassin. "And Desmond- you're the one out of all of us that has the most mystery in your future. I mean, we pretty much know what happens to all of us, because it's all in the past. But for all we know, you could end up working a drive through at some fast food place."

"Wow, thanks."

"But I don't think that's going to happen," Ezio says. "I think you have a lot more adventures left in your life." He pauses to think that over. "Although they probably won't be as weird as this one."

"So your advice is pretty much 'you got this'?" Desmond asks.

"I never said it was good advice," says Ezio. "But I wanted you to know before I left."

"Thanks," says Desmond, and Altair nods. And then- before anyone has a chance to say goodbye (he doesn't want to say goodbye, goodbye is too final, he doesn't think he can handle goodbye)…

He lets the apple take him home.

**-/-**

**I am so sorry for the preachy tone of this chapter. I wrote most of this during my econ lecture this morning, and usually that's a great place to write, but today the professor decided to spent fifty minutes giving out 'how to succeed at life' advice and I think it kind of bled into this a little (or, you know. A lot).**

**And in other news, there's only two chapters left in this story. :( I'm going to miss it so much you don't even know.**


	114. Epilogue 3: Altair

Desmond knows why Altair pushed the others out and back to their own times as quickly as he could. It's because he knows that the longer they stayed, the harder it would have been to say goodbye. Logically, that applies to him, too. Altair should be back in Masyaf already, back in his own time, his own life.

Instead, it's been five hours since Ezio left, and Altair's still sitting next to Desmond on the roof of the apartment, watching the stars come out. Neither of them speaks for a very long time, and then Altair says, "It's hard to believe these stars will all be different soon."

"A thousand years isn't that long at all, really," Desmond says. "Not with the apples, anyway. But I guess it's enough time for the stars to move."

They watch the sky for a little bit longer, then Altair says, "And there's more of them, of course."

"No light pollution," Desmond agrees. "I always liked seeing the stars in the animus, or when I was actually in the past."

They're making small talk, because neither of them wants to talk about what has to happen next. But it can't last forever. Finally, when Desmond can't take it anymore, he says- "Thanks."

"For what?" Altair asks.

"The first time we met, you saved my life," Desmond says. "Back in Abstergo, when we broke out, before I even knew you were in my head. You killed all those guards so we could get out, remember?"

Altair nods. "That feels like such a long time ago," he says.

Desmond laughs. "We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into."

"I'm just glad we all got _out_ of it alive," says Altair.

"True," Desmond says. "I mean, technically I was dead for a while, and Connor was a wolf for a few days, and that time we all switched bodies was pretty weird-"

"Which time?" Altair interrupts, and they both smile.

"Good point," says Desmond. "But seriously, do you remember when that used to be a big deal?"

"Hard to believe," says Altair. Then- "I should thank you, too."

"Why?" Desmond asks. "When did I save your life?"

"It's not that," Altair says. "I can save my own life, but I never would have seen any of this if you hadn't ended up in my head."

Desmond snorts. "Well in that case, you might as well thank Vidic. I didn't exactly have a choice in the matter."

"I'd rather thank you," says Altair.

"Fair enough," Desmond says.

Altair changes the subject. "So what are you going to do after this?"

Desmond shrugs. He hasn't actually thought about it. "Maybe track down my dad," he says. "Let him know I'm alive. Talk to my mom- I haven't seen her since I was sixteen. After that… I'm sure there's plenty of templars that need to be dealt with. And I mean, who knows? Maybe some of them can be brought around. Haytham's on our side now, and none of us thought that would ever happen."

"That sounds like a good plan," Altair says. "And I wish you the best of luck." Desmond takes his gaze away from the sky and looks over at Altair, who's looking back at him.

Their eyes meet, and Desmond asks, "Are you ready to go?"

"No," Altair says. "But I need to." He stands up, and Desmond takes the hand his ancestor offers him to help him to his feet. "It's been good knowing you, and I suppose if we're never going to see each other again, this isn't a bad way to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" Desmond looks at him in genuine confusion. "You're talking like we're never going to see each other again."

"We're not," Altair says. "I'm going back to Masyaf. You're staying here."

"Obviously," Desmond agrees. "But I thought- oh."

"Oh?"

"You don't get it yet," Desmond says. He knows the others haven't figured it out yet, but they haven't been around since the beginning. Back at Abstergo, it was just him and Altair, and so he thought for sure that Altair would know already.

"Get what?" Altair demands. From the look on his face, it's clear he has no idea what he's missing, which is funny because it's so _obvious_.

"Never mind." Desmond grins. "I guess it's going to be a surprise for you, too." He notices Altair's expression, and quickly adds, "Don't worry. It's a good surprise."

Altair sighs. "Fine," he says. "I suppose I should trust you, after all this time."

"You should," Desmond agrees. "And you should probably be headed back to Masyaf. I promise- I'll see you soon."

He stands there and watches as Altair's apple flares into a steady golden glow. It holds steady for several long seconds, then fades away. When it's gone, Altair is as well, and Desmond is alone- truly alone- for the first time in a long time.

**-/-**

**Apologies if this chapter reads a little awkwardly. I changed my mind about whose point of view I wanted this chapter written from after it was already done, so I think it came out kind of *blargh*. I don't know. Hopefully it's okay.**


	115. Epilogue: Desmond

He knows there's someone else there. Behind him, just where he can't see.

It's a feeling that's been following Altair for months now, an itching on the back of his neck, the pressure of someone watching his kills when he knows there's no one there. It irks him. He is an assassin- _we work in the dark to serve the light_- and there should be no one hiding in the dark to watch him.

But there is.

And he can't believe it, because he knows this feeling. He spends months trying to deny it, because he can't believe it, he just _can't_. Because if he lets himself trust his instincts, and he's wrong, he's not sure he'll be able to take it. The presence in the back of his mind can't be Desmond, because that would just be asking too much.

And over time, he learns to just ignore it. There's work enough to distract him, anyway, and even with the order operating more or less smoothly for the first time since Al Mualim died, Altair still has more work to do than he knows what to do with.

Days go by without Altair thinking of the presence once, then weeks. After a while, he genuinely believes that the thing in his head is a phantom, just a bit of wishful thinking. Desmond promised they would see each other again soon, but-

_"Alright, seriously?"_

Altair's in his office, struggling through paperwork, when he hears the voice- Desmond's voice- in his mind. He's surprised enough that he almost falls off his chair, and he feels more than hears Desmond laugh inside his head.

_"Seriously," _Desmond adds. _"If I'd known you were going to flat out ignore me for six months, I would have just told you this was going to happen."_

_"But you-" _Altair takes a deep breath. _"How are you even here?"_

_"Are you kidding me?" _Desmond asks. _"This is how it all started. Hanging out in each other's heads, remember? It only stopped because all of us were in the same century, and now that everyone's back…"_

_"You're the voice in my head again," _Altair says.

_"I would be," _Desmond says, just a trace of annoyance in his tone. _"If you didn't keep ignoring me. And- well, it's not just me, obviously. I've been talking to all the others, we've all been trying to get you to listen. You're just too stubborn for your own good."_

Altair stands, shaking a little, trying to pretend like this isn't the best thing that's ever happened to him. He'd thought his connection to everyone else ended the day he came back to Masyaf, but now this- he's not alone any longer.

_"So what happens now?" _he asks.

_"Now we get on with our lives," _says Desmond. _"Just like we planned. You lead the order from Masyaf. Ezio gets to retire with Sophia. Edward falls in love and has a son. Haytham and Connor and Mary drive each other insane. And I go find my parents. The only difference is that we don't have to do any of it alone."_

For a second, this revelation is so overwhelming that Altair doesn't know how to react to it. About half his mind is almost melting with the relief of getting his five closest friends- people he'd thought lost forever- back in his life. The rest of his mind is busily beating himself up for ignoring them for so long.

Malik chooses that point to stick his head into the office. At the sight of Altair on his feet, apparently staring at nothing (even after all this time, it's still difficult to know what to do with his eyes when he's talking to someone in his head), Malik asks. "Talking to the voices in your head again?" he asks.

"Yes," says Altair.

His friend sighs loudly. "And I guess everything's back to normal," he says, and Altair smiles. Inside his head, he feels Desmond do the same.

_"Normal," _Altair says.

_"I guess it is," _says Desmond. _"For us, anyway. It's normal enough."_

_"I can live with that," _Altair says. _"I can live with normal enough."_

**-/-**

**And... that's all I got. The end. Man, I'm going to miss this story, and I'm going to miss all of the great feedback I got from all of you guys. Your reviews and favorites and follows are one of the biggest reasons I was able to keep this story going all the way to the end. I want to thank you all for putting up with my weird little story, and the unedited content, and the sporadic updates and chapter lengths.**

**Speaking of unedited chapters and weird chapter lengths, I may or may not go back at some point to pretty up the chapters and make them more readable, maybe add some detail to the shorter chapters. I don't know. Maybe there'll be a lot of changes, maybe there won't be any, maybe there will be but it'll be ages from now. I don't know.**

**Ooh! Also, side note about the beginning of this chapter- the first three paragraphs are taken straight from the first chapter, because I enjoy the symmetry. So- yea, hopefully it didn't come out as too awkward.**

**Thanks for reading. It's been a good ride. :)**


End file.
